


2069

by SlutWriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cock Cleaning, Cock Worship, Cum As Food, Cum on food, Deep throat, Degradation, F/M, Free Use, Humiliation, Incest, Mind Control, Misogyny, Orwell - Freeform, Sci-Fi, Smegma, Titfuck, Verbal Abuse, facefuck, huge tits, rough oral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/pseuds/SlutWriter
Summary: In the year 2069, the population is 90% female, and women are carefully controlled. They must live in a state of utter compliance with male commands... and sexual needs. Inspired loosely by themes explored by George Orwell.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 256





	1. Chapter 1

27-year-old Shannon Sell looked at herself in the mirror on the morning of November 25th, 2069, and turned up the corners of her mouth in a big smile. The coldly utilitarian bathroom, with grey marble walls and floors and gleaming metal fixtures, was devoid of any color except the faint blueness of overhead lighting panels. The taps activated automatically as she put her hands forward to gather water. She smiled, and smiled, and smiled until her eyes began to water. She smiled until she convinced herself it was real. The smile was womanface, mandated by statutes of the OFC - Office of Female Compliance.  
  
Shannon was compliant, and she did her best to make sure her two sisters were also compliant. She was long-haired, a striking blonde with a double-D chest and curvy in the hips, the oldest of the four siblings in the Sell family. She was the only one with even faint memories of the way things had been before four-fifths of the men on earth were infected with the deadly Minerva strand… and every woman on the planet took the blame.  
  
She thought about it as she smiled. She had seen photos of the outbreak - a virus targeting only men, the dead piling up in grisly mass graves, resulting in massive gaps in the structure of society. Landowners, world leaders, moguls and oligarchs, military officers dropped like flies, and those who didn’t quickly found someone to blame - a cadre of female scientists who had taken matters into their own hands, publishing an anti-male manifesto on the eve of attacks in Washington D.C., Paris, London, Tokyo, Seoul and Berlin. These terrorists had been caught and executed for their crimes. Their death agonies were filmed for the edification of the masses, a warning that women should always be tightly controlled, lest the evil principles of feminism and female agency result in another male genocide.  
  
Shannon continued to make her unnatural, doll-like womanface smile at the mirror. She knew there was a camera installed in it, one of many cameras in the house that were always watching. If she was without a smile for more than a few seconds, the lapse was logged. If she cried or looked unhappy, it was logged. Eventually, if the threshold of time spent without a smile reached a certain point (she, a secretary at the OFC headquarters in Washington, was one of few females who knew the exact number, but she was forbidden to divulge it without male permission) then Shannon knew that she would be taken for ‘re-education’.  
  
She adjusted her tight jacket and unbuttoned it to show her too-tight blouse, within which her breasts were straining at the buttons and showing obvious cleavage. Modesty or bashfulness were both offenses for which she might receive a black mark on her record. Her smile didn’t waver, no matter how manic she looked, her blue eyes barely blinking as she stared out like an animatronic doll. She opened her makeup case and applied gloss to her plump lips, then moved to tease out her lashes with government-approved mascara. The Compliance Cosmetics division was run by women, for women, and their products were all officially sanctioned to meet immodesty regulations.  
  
The door opened, and Shannon’s eighteen-year-old brother Leo walked in, slightly shorter than she, wearing nothing but his stained boxer shorts as he yawned and scratched the back of his head. He was average-looking, black haired, brown eyed, and mostly physically unremarkable, save for one feature which it was his pleasure to whip out at any time - his very large, thick, and long uncircumcised penis. Shannon could tell from the immediate stench in the room that he hadn’t bathed or showered and that dried semen and spit from his previous night’s sexual predations was stewing on his cock and balls in the damp satchel of his boxers. But her face did not waver, she did not react at all. It was, she knew, not her place.  
  
“Fuck, my dick really stinks this morning,” Leo said, casually. He treated the statement like normal sibling banter because it was. He was the man of the house, not just by exclusion of other candidates - their father and mother were in re-education programs - but by government law. His sisters, while inside his dwelling, were his property. “Can you clean my dick cheese for me, Shan?”  
  
Shannon immediately turned ninety degrees, stopping what she was doing, still with the same plastic smile on her face. “Of course, brother!” she said, dutifully and with practiced chipperness. “Thank you for letting me clean the dick cheese of your huge penis!” Inside, she felt nothing resembling enthusiasm, but she had no choice. It was the rule of law that any man could ask any service of a woman and that service would be performed, with no hesitation, no frowning, no complaining. Leo had been born in the system, and he knew no other way. Her younger brother was constantly horny, constantly in the mood to have his filthy cock serviced, and saw it as completely and utterly normal. From a young age he had been educated to see Shannon, his sisters, and all other women as accessible to his every whim.  
  
She dropped to her knees in front of him, scuffling in her hose and wool skirt on the marble floor, and reached into his waistband. She pulled down and revealed a forest of dark, crinkly pubic hair, beneath which her brother’s long, flaccid cock hung like a very plump sausage, totally flaccid. The long, unkempt foreskin added to the perceived size, protruding nearly two inches beyond his cocktip before tapering off, and the pouched, tapered end was already leaking a syrupy drizzle of pre-cum.  
  
“I have a lot saved up,” Leo commented, and Shannon saw that it was true. He had slept with his cock down his youngest sister Kylie’s throat, no doubt ejaculating multiple times during the night, and his cock was slathered in dried cum, sweat, and the sheen of her spit and throat slime. It stank and Shannon’s nostrils flared, but she made no other sign of reaction, only using two hands to peel back the long foreskin. There was so much smegma and cock filth underneath that the peeling actually made a sticky, slimy sound. Shannon had been servicing her brother’s cock every day for years, and time had made the task no more appetizing… but she had a dutiful and well-rehearsed womanface. Her jester smile was second-nature ironclad.  
  
Leo began to rub his cock all over her face, nose and lips, smearing thick chunks of yellowish smegma onto each surface. Pieces of filth gathered on the rims of her nostrils and on her upper lip. “You really like cleaning my cock-cheese, huh?” Leo said, looking down at her, his eyes nearly hidden by his unkempt bangs.   
  
“Of course,” Shannon replied. “Your cock cheese is so amazing and smells so strong!” Over the years she’d developed the skill to prevent nausea and disgust from overtaking her, and it came in handy on days when Leo insisted she orally clean every speck of his dick filth, like today. The middle sister, Celia, was not so skilled in her acting, and it caused Shannon no end of worry. Celia had already been flagged three times for non-compliance. Shannon’s record was pristine. She knew there were cameras watching her, even at that moment, with Leo lifting his large, sweaty ballsack and beginning to rub it on her face, pressing them right up against her nostrils and smearing cock filth into her olfactories. Shannon’s eyes fluttered a little with the utter stench… but she knew that such eye-rolling, eye-crossing expressions could be excused as performative arousal or unwilling distress. When Leo pulled his balls away after about fifteen seconds, she drew in a breath - making the chunks of smegma in her nostrils vibrate - and them immediately snapped her face back into a wide, plastic smile.  
  
“You like that, huh?” Leo said.  
  
“Yes, I love it,” Shannon replied, automatically. “I love cleaning your extra-stinky cock cheese with my face, my wonderful handsome genius of a brother.” These were not precisely lies, but _mantruths_. The law said Leo, with his average physique and his big, fat, often-grotesquely-filthy penis, was handsome. The law said she had to love everything he did.  
  
Leo reached down and clamped two hands around her head, forcing his cock against her mouth, mashing her lips and then sliding inside. It was very thick, and only the slickness of her spit and his sweat made it possible for her to take a few inches. Try as she might, her deep-throat skills had never come along as naturally as her two sisters, and she was the least skilled of the three when it came to absorbing the affections of men as the law required. But what she lacked in these areas, Shannon made up for in unwavering compliance.   
  
“Gluuuuuuark!” she croaked, as Leo’s nasty, smegma-caked glans battered her tonsils. “Hrrrrrrrrrk!” Her gag reflex was strong and tears poured from her eyes, making her just-applied mascara run. Yet she _never_ tried to pull away, never even braced her hands against his legs to get some separation. Shannon was too disciplined for that.  
  
“Fuck, I love using your throat as a pussy,” Leo said, talking more to himself than to her, beginning to thrust his hips and stab away at her narrow oral passage. The thickness of his veiny, brutal dick made oral sex like this especially uncomfortable for Shannon, and the outline of his prick helmet was visible in her slender neck as he mounted her face, nearly overbalancing forward, humping her skull with two handfuls of her gorgeous blonde hair. Spit, mixed with chunks of smegma, was sliding into Shannon’s cleavage, staining her blouse, splattering her big tits. She knew that she would not be able to wash herself without male permission, which meant she would still be adorned with Leo’s fluids when she gave her briefing to a committee of OFC regulators later that morning.  
  
Leo pounded away at Shannon’s throat as the noises of the other two sisters walking around outside, also getting ready, were audible alongside eldest sister’s choking gasps. Kylie and Celia would know what was happening - it was a regular part of their lives under Leo’s roof. Even though he was the youngest, that no longer mattered and hadn’t for a generation. He was a man, and they were women. Any women in a man’s domicile, by law, were under his control - free from interference from other men but expected to provide comfort and service as he required. All families were structured in such a way, with females first being beholden to their fathers when they came of age. Those who lived only with other women - a necessity with 90% of the male population wiped out - did so with no expectation of privacy or property. If a man stepped through their door, he was in charge until he stepped out again. That was the law.  
  
“Huuuuuuuuuuark!” Shannon gurgled. “Hllllllgh! Hnnnnnngh!” She was heaving all over Leo’s dick as he degradingly pounded her skull. Outside, in the kitchen, Celia was eating an energy breakfast bar with barely concealed contempt as she listened to the noises muffled by the door. Her smile was thin - she wore her emotions on her sleeve and her facials were barely in compliance even at the best of times. She was particularly irked on this day, as she was scheduled to stand on jury duty in a case of non-compliance, and there had been an ‘incident’ the night before… an incident that nobody could be permitted to find out about.   
  
Celia dressed in a skirt and jacket for the occasion, not unlike her sister Shannon, but was much thinner, her body tighter and more athletic, lacking the large, round ass and hips of her elder. Her smaller body only accentuated her large breasts more, though - she had a pair of surgically-enhanced double-D tits that popped her blouse out like balloons. She hated her big bimbo tits, hated how they looked on her thin body… but she had been assigned to received them as part of a probationary plea agreement for non-compliance. She had been accused of being unwelcoming to males, not smiling enough and dressing too modestly. She avoided re-education camp because Shannon pulled a few strings and had her punishment reduced to breast enhancement. She ate breakfast without much enthusiasm… but managed to keep her puppet smile at least partially intact. She knew the location of some of the cameras in the house - the overheard light fixture, the refrigerator display, the computer - but not all of them.  
  
Kylie was different. Celia felt she was cursed to have a constantly-horny brother with huge balls that produced large amounts of semen with a short refractory period, but Kylie took it in stride. She was already dressed for her work at the food court of the Five-Way Complex, an office park where male CEOs and executives ran companies staffed mostly with female underlings. A peppy redhead with a crop of adorable freckles beneath each blue eye, Kylie was a favorite among the men at the complex and seemed to effortlessly satisfy all of her customers, no matter how outlandish their demands. The youngest of the three sisters at nineteen, it was second-nature to her to service men and dress to the limits of modesty. Even Leo, who wore Shannon out and drove Celia to the limits of her temper, couldn’t make a dent in Kylie’s outward positivity. This day, like many others, she was eating a breakfast of semen - a large mug of the stuff that Leo had saved from his length masturbation sessions.  
  
Celia made sure her doll-like smile didn’t waver as she watched her cute younger sister - who also had the largest breasts of the three of them, at double-E - tilt back the cum-slathered mug and start swallowing the yellowish-white mess. It was unbelievably thick - Leo’s balls seemed to work overtime producing extremely nasty loads - and Celia felt her stomach churn a little. Ugh! Her brother’s cum stank and it was so lumpy you had to chew it - it was stained yellow from the amount of smegma and piss it contained - but Kylie’s throat was working effortlessly and taking it all down. On the days Celia was ordered by Leo to do this, she was barely able to contain the urge to vomit, and then had to hide her nausea for several hours until the feeling passed.  
  
“Mmm, it’s extra-thick today!” Kylie commented, and then drained the dregs of the glass. Several drops were splattered in the cleavage of her maid outfit, which showed off her huge, pale breasts via the lace-trimmed, low-cut front. Her shapely legs and bottom were dressed in a short skirt and fishnet stockings. “Brother produces so much cum!”  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure it tastes _great_ ,” Celia said, and her voice was dripping with sarcasm. She covered her mouth with her breakfast bar while she said it. She had learned that the compliance monitors were not adept at detecting sarcasm, and she could hide a momentary lapse in womanface if she used a hand or other object to cover her mouth. Meanwhile, the sounds of Shannon gagging and choking continued to echo from the bathroom.  
  
The eldest sister was at the end of her rope - Leo was totally cutting off her air with his rampaging, throbbing prick helmet, leaking pre-cum constantly down her throat and into her stomach while her battered her tonsils and forced her past the point where she was comfortable. Twice, she’d turned her head to the side to dry heave extravagantly, but managed to avoid vomiting. Only when her face was turning blew with oxygen deprivation did he relent, letting her suck on his tip as she regained her senses. She slid her tongue around his glans and collected all the stinky, lumpy cock cheese there, gathering it in her mouth with the spit and sperm already inside, then wiggled her tongue around the inside of his long foreskin, feeling every vein and bump and deposit of dick filth, sucking those deeper wads out as well.  
  
“Open up,” Leo ordered. Shannon did, opening up and showing the huge trough of smegma gathered on her concavity of her tongue. He found this degrading sight very hot indeed, and finished himself off by jerking his dick in his elder sister’s obedience, utterly compliance face, breathing harder and harder until fat ropes of sperm - whiter in color than the smegma - began to loop out all over her features and onto the semen sewer of her tongue. He plastered her nose, eyes, forehead, cheeks. The strands were too heavy and thick to fly very far, but Leo did produce a lot, spewing ten thick ropes all over Shannon’s face and onto her tongue until she was a total mess.  
  
“Swallow,” Leo wheezed, leaning back against the wall and breathing deeply. His perverse pleasures were clear in his eyes, along with an utter lack of respect or restraint. Treating women this way was all he had ever known. “You can wear the rest.”  
  
Shannon nodded and steeled herself, swallowing the piles of smegma and cum on her tongue, her throat working while lines of sperm slid down her chin and stained her breasts and blouse. She nearly made a nauseous retching noise and stopped herself, eventually looking up at Leo and displaying her empty mouth with watering eyes and and a smile that was unnatural enough to seem crazed.  
  
“You liked that, didn’t you?” Leo prompted.   
  
“Yes,” Shannon said. It was the mantruth. Leo wanted her to like it, thus, she did. “I love swallowing all your smelly cum and cock cheese. Thank you for using my mouth-pussy.” The use of the suffix ‘pussy’ to describe any part of the female anatomy was very much en vogue; serving as a reminder that all parts of any woman were primarily for male satisfaction, whatever his predilections.  
  
With sperm and smegma still plastering her pretty face, Leo led her out into the kitchen to join the others. Shannon and Celia would be leaving soon, Kylie didn’t start at the cafe until 1 PM. He sat down and told Shannon to take a seat as well, which she did. The family was occupying all four seats of the square breakfast table. Leo leaned back and put his hands behind his head, stretching, looking like the lord of all creation. His sisters wore identical jester grins. “Who wants to get fucked up the ass tonight?” he said, looking around expectantly.  
  
The response was immediate and automatic. “I would love to!” said Shannon, her face still flushed from her rough face-fucking moments earlier. “Please, bend me over tonight and shove your huge cock up my ass!” Her face showed no inkling of her true feelings - that she hated such encounters, and had never been any better at anal sex than she was at oral. Her smile shone with unnatural, lunatic intensity from behind her mask of cum splatter.  
  
“Sounds _great_ ,” said Celia, and her smile was fierce. “I _sure hope_ you just take me no matter what I’m doing, pull up my skirt and tear apart my unlubed asshole. It would really make my night!” As usual, her sarcasm was intense, but she had faith that her brother wouldn’t report her. After all, in the end, if he chose he, she would have no choice to obey. She hated anal sex but her own body seemed to betray her; she could take every inch of Leo’s huge dick up her athletic bubble ass even though her frame was rather slight. She was thin enough that when she did so, a large bulge appeared in her belly, running from above her mons, past her belly button. She got no pleasure from it at all… but she could do it if she had to.  
  
“Oh yeah! Totally fuck me up the ass any time you want, bro!” Kylie chirped, downing the last of her semen drink and putting down the smeared receptacle. Her smile was intense and sweet. She, unlike her sisters, got a lot of pleasure from all sorts of sex - she even liked sucking cock, and if the guy’s dick wasn’t washed, she liked it even more! “In fact, if you want, I’ll sit on your dick right now!”  
  
Leo seemed to like this idea, and Kylie reached below her skirt to pull down her stockings and bare her hairless, tight pussy. Vaginal grooming standards were left to female discretion unless men in the household said otherwise, Leo was quite a slacker and tended to let the girls manage their own hairstyles and pubic areas since he couldn’t be bothered. Most days he spent playing video games, emerging to rape one of them at his convenience, and then choosing a sistre to take to bed at night. He was unemployed; but that didn’t matter since women in a household were expected to support the men. Thus, the wages of Shannon, Celia and Kylie were controlled by Leo. Women were allowed personal accounts only with male permission, and Shannon knew from experience that the spending habits of such accounts were strictly vetted. Women who did not meet certain spending thresholds - at least 80% on clothes, beauty supplies, or other compliance-related purchases - could expect an audit.  
  
Kylie slid off her heels, perching on Leo’s thighs with her tiny feet, and lowered her five foot frame onto his jutting, eleven-inch prong. His spit-slick cock speared into her asshole effortlessly and she moaned as she sat down. Shannon and Celia continued to stare ahead with puppet smiles, not reacting at all. They had seen this many times. A readout on the refrigerator display panel revealed that it would soon be time for them to leave for work. “Oh, fuck!” Kylie moaned. “Tear apart my fucking ass! Your dick is so big! And I bet you have soooo much cum in your balls, too!” Leo took hold of Kylie’s hips and began thrusting up into her.  
  
“Nnngh, fuck!” Leo hissed, gritting his teeth. “So tight! Celia, make me some breakfast you dumb bitch, don’t just sit there!”  
  
A cloud crossed Celia’s face for just a tiny moment, but Shannon was staring at her, making sure she was still in compliance and their smiles were within regulations. “Right away, my _amazing genius_ brother,” she said, rising from the table. Leo had simple pleasures, the horny bastard liked sugary breakfast cereals, so breakfast consisted of pouring him a bowl, along with some orange juice. When he was fucking, Leo could get a bit abusive and territorial, and these times were when the chance of Celia losing her cool were highest.  
  
“Hey Celia,” Leo said, looking up at her as he thrust his hips up and rammed his cock up Kylie’s asshole to the hilt. “You sure are good at fetching stuff. You’re like a dog, huh?”  
  
“Yes, I am,” Celia said, holding the cereal and orange juice and smiling soullessly.  
  
“You’re good at getting raped too,” Leo said. “I love pounding your asshole. You can take every inch of my dick… it makes you a real good slut, you know? Which is good because you’re too stupid to do much else, huh?”  
  
“Thank you,” Celia replied. Her lips were drawing so tightly around her teeth that they looked like they might split. “That makes me feel _great_.” She placed the breakfast on the table with barely-concealed contempt. Leo moaned, tensed his hips, and started cumming deep in Kylie’s asshole while the other two sisters were forced to remain motionless. Kylie moaned out in orgasm - something both Shannon and Celia seldom if ever achieved - and then slumped forward before sliding meekly off Leo’s dick, her thin belly rising and falling beneath the navy fabric of her maid outfit.  
  
“Ouuugh! That was amazing! I love getting my ass fucked!” she cooed, and then kissed Leo on the cheek before moving back to her seat and beginning to pull her stockings back on. She wiggled her butt in her chair, making her round buttocks mash and compress against the surface, and rubbed her tummy. “Mmm, you shot _so much_.” Leo had not told her to clean or otherwise evacuate the sperm from her asshole, so she wouldn’t. She would carry it with her all day, until another man told her otherwise.  
  
Leo had already lost interest and was chowing down on his cereal while Celia stood smiling, like a servant. Shannon rose from her chair; for her, too, it was time to go to work. Putting a reassuring hand on Celia’s shoulder as she passed - calm down, keep your womanface, keep it together, came the semi-telepathic message in her body-language - she grabbed a simple leather velise that contained her government-provided OFC laptop and opened the simple door, emerging into the hall of their third-foor apartment. The walls were cement, the carpet utterly without color, but everything was clean, and there were lights with hidden cameras every fifteen feet.  
  
It was time to go to work.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Shannon stepped out the front door of the building and onto a pristine sidewalk, turning east, toward the rising sun. It was several blocks to a sheltered bench that served as a terminal for self-driving mass transit; big, blocky buses that could seat forty and followed predetermined routes. Her heels clacked on the sidewalk as she moved; there were no cracks to stumble on or other obstacles in her way. The government had seen to that. She passed other women walking to work in the opposite direction, and made sure to smile fiercely at each one, a smile that was returned just as fiercely in each case. The fact that her face was absolutely _plastered_ with thick ropes of cum and her nostrils and lips had crumbs of smegma around the edges did not warrant any stares from the other women - they knew the deal and had all, at one time or another, been in her situation.  
  
She passed a phone charging and internet terminal with a rotating display screen. Ads informed her about government-subsidized breast augmentation surgery - “Avoid noncompliance! Enhance your bust!” - and asked her if she had seen anyone frowning today. If so, she was encouraged to report the offending women to the proper authorities. Shannon knew she was being watched, she didn’t let her smile falter. A big sloppy wad of cum slid into her eyes and down her unblinking eyeball… she did not even flinch. If anything, she smiled even wider, until it felt like her cheeks might burst from being pulled up so intently. The stench of sperm and cock cheese was burning in her nose with every inhale she took of the city air… but still she made her walk.  
  
An automated street cleaner trundled by near the curb with a digitized ad panel on the side:  
  
_2 + 2 = 5_ , it read. _Compliant females know the mantruth_! _Watch your neighbors! Report all non-compliance!_ The equation was accompanied by a rather classic, Normal Rockwell-styled image of a woman whispering into her cellphone as she spied on a neighboring woman with a morose expression. 2 + 2 = 5 was the classic example of mantruth, and a well-known saying. What it meant was simple. If a man told a woman that 2 + 2 was 5, then to her, 2 + 2 was 5 until another man told her different. It didn’t matter that mathematically, 2 + 2 was 4.   
  
The screen flickered and switched to a different rotating add, this one showing a thong-clad pair of female ass-cheeks. “ _Stay fit for his pleasure_ ,” the ad copy warned. A male hand was reaching into the frame and grabbing one supple, well-complexioned buttock. It was not romantic in the least, but a grim reminder that failure to meet standards of immodesty and beauty would result in “re-education”. As a functionary at the OFC herself, Shannon had been in rooms where campaigns like these were conceived and planned, usually by men, but occasionally by women as well.  
  
Shannon arrived at the bus stop; there were four women waiting and one suit-wearing man, who like her, was holding a briefcase. He was in his 40’s and appeared to be on his way to work. Shannon joined the other women in standing perfectly straight and smiling joyfully in his presence. Every one of them was dressed for work, but within the standards of immodesty. Blouses were unbuttoned to show cleavage, wool skirts were short, aprons were tight around large busts, denim shorts were low on hips to show the straps of a thong.  
  
Then Shannon heard a voice. “My, you’re a tall one,” the man said. Her heart sank, Shannon was fairly tall, at 5’10”, and whenever she heard someone mention height, it usually referred to her. With difficulty, she kept her smile straight and turned to the businessman. He was dark-haired, robust, liver-lipped.  
  
“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a nod that was more like a bow. “I certainly am!” She kept what chipperness in her voice that she could.   
  
“I see you’ve already been used today, so I won’t bother sticking my dick in your ugly cow face,” the businessman went on. “I bet you love getting your face covered in cum and cleaning a man’s cock cheese, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes, sir. I love it.”  
  
“Ah, just like the stupid whore you are,” the man said, and puffed his chest out. “You know, I’ve fucked quite a few dumb whores like you in my time.” His expression became one of smug arrogance.  
  
“That’s amazing, sir,” Shannon said.  
  
“Damn right,” the man said, and then glanced down the street. The transport was arriving, a big, boxy vehicle with propaganda on the side. _THINK LESS_ , the banner proclaimed, along with a picture of a woman with a quizzical, brainless expression on her face. “Once we get on, you can sit on my lap. Your face has been used but your asshole is still fresh, yes? I have a very thick cock, and I enjoy seeing if women are able to take the whole thing.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Shannon’s heart sank again. She had endless trouble with anal sex; it was her sisters, Celia and Kylie, who seemed capable of taking the thickest and longest cocks in their asses. Shannon had never been good at it, that was why she had to work twice as hard to keep up. The man boarded first, taking Shannon by the hand, and she immediately complied and followed his confident steps up and into the vehicle. As a man, it was his prerogative to board first or last, at his convenience, and so take any seat he wished, to order any woman to stand or sit as he wished, or to leave the bus entirely. This particular man decided to sit up front, next to the auto-driver station. He pulled Shannon onto his lap after both of them had swiped their transportation funding cards, and she immediately felt a thick, bulging protuberance prodding up between the round, thick cheeks of her ass.  
  
It _was_ unbelievably thick, and her cry of distress as he pulled her panties to the side and shoved it against her asshole was covered only partly by the transport kicking into gear. There was a selection of calming music that would typically play during the twenty minute commute to work; interspersed with propaganda and ads for compliance-approved products and services. These rang in Shannon’s ears as the man’s cock - which seemed literally thicker than his wrist - burrowed into her bowels and began churning her up.  
  
“Nnnngh! It… feels… good!” Shannon said. It was mantruth. He expected his big cock to please her, and so she would act like it did. In reality it felt like her bowels were on fire, and her cries could barely be classified as having anything to do with pleasure. In other seats, women sat with plastic smiles, staring straight ahead, occasionally murmuring to each other. Every word was recorded, every expression logged, and if they had objections to watching Shannon get her ass pounded during their ride, certainly none dared voice them.  
  
“Stupid whore,” the man wheezed, gripping her around the waist and sawing his veiny prick into her shitpipe. “You’ll remember me after this, won’t you? I’m going to resize your asshole into the shape of my dick.”  
  
“Y-yes sir!” Shannon had heard this line a few times. She _wished_ it was true. Maybe then her daily rapes and assaults wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. This man seemed particularly vicious, and he wound up and donkey-punched her right in the back of the head, causing her long blonde hair to fly and her face to pitch forward. She braced her hands against the seat in front of her to prevent impact, looking dazed and overwhelmed.  
  
“That’s it, take it, you dumb bitch!” the businessman grunted, still thrusting his hips with a firm arm around Shannon’s waist. He moved his up to grope her breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh. Shannon blinked and instinctively twisted her face into a brainless smile, trying to clear the cobwebs. The businessman was clearly in an abusive and dominant mood on that day, and she was bearing the brunt of it. “With tits like that and this big, round ass, you should be getting fucked like this at all times! Nnngh! I’m going to cum! Take my big, thick, backed-up load in your worthless ass-pussy!”  
  
There was a sound like a drain unclogging as the sweating, wheezing man lurched against her back and uncorked what seemed like an endless spray of semen deep into her clenching, churning bowels. He groped her tits and yanked her blonde hair as he did so, and Shannon dutifully moaned out in mock orgasm, a sound that wasn’t too much unlike crying… making it quite easy for her to fake. She was used to interruptions like this, but two in one morning was a particularly unlucky start.  
  
They sat silently as he softened inside her over the next few minutes. She watched the buildings go by in the great, grey city of reconstructed Washington - even the recreational and commercial areas had a uniform sameness in their colors and angles. Every building was box-like or some variation of a simple geometric shape. Advertising panels and signage were placed a mandated distance apart, used a curated color palette and espoused information that was approved by the OFC. Shannon kept her smile pasted on and barely felt her partner’s gropings and nipple-pinchings as the minutes passed.  
  
Her stop was before his. “This is my stop, sir,” she explained. “Or will you be using me some more?”  
  
The businessman, who had busted his nut and lost most interest in the females around him, was tucking his dick back into his fly. He looked out the window at the towering building outside - the largest and tallest complex in all of Washington, in fact.  
  
“Office of Female Compliance?” he chuckled. “You work here? No wonder you’re such a good fuck.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.”  
  
“I should make you get on your knees and suck my cock clean, as well - but I guess I’d make some OFC bigwig upset that he doesn’t have his coffee this morning,” the man went on, freely expressing contempt that was forbidden for women to even imply. “So I’ll let you go.”  
  
“Thank you, sir,” Shannon said. And then, pausing to straighten her panties, she took several strides off the bus and down onto the landing, velise in hand. The entrance to the OFC office was suitably intimidating - a funnel like plaza of three levels, each with five steps, arriving at the large double doors where security checks could be performed. The security guards were about half male, which was rare for most lines of post-outbreak work, but made a certain amount of sense. It was a pseudo-military job, for one, and the military had the highest proportion of men. Second, it was a job that ‘fit’ the new social order of men giving orders to women and being unquestioningly obeyed.  
  
Shannon prayed she didn’t get pulled aside for a random screening. To enter the OFC office, she would have to present a government issued passcard - but women were still subjected to random compliance inspections even with such a card. During such inspections, security staff - again, usually male - would strip her, examine all clothing, and then grope her buttocks, breasts and pussy as much as they wanted. Occasionally the performance of her mouth and ass-pussies would be tested, as well as her actual vagina, and if she showed even the slightest hesitation in submitting to these tests, she would be fired and flagged as a possible subversive.   
  
Luckily, the security guard was one of the female ones, a cold-eyed, hardcase bitch with a tightly-drawn ponytail. She was suspicious, and oh-so-eager to please her male superiors (even in cases where the job description was the same between the sexes, men were considered superiors to women in the workplace), but allowed Shannon to pass with a simple card-swipe.   
  
Clutching her valise, she made her way to the 54th floor via a large elevator. Her ride up was mostly women, and while she could detect groping going on in the car and heard a male voice call someone a ‘stupid cunt’, it wasn’t directed at her. Another potential pitfall avoided. She checked her phone and saw she didn’t have time to delay even a moment before making her way to the conference room to deliver her daily briefing. Shannon’s official title was “Secretary”, but what she mostly did was gather stories of interest from various intelligence sources within the company, and compile them into a briefing, which she would read aloud every morning to the department heads.  
  
Right on time, she strode into briefing room with her high heels clacking on the tile, moving down the center aisle formed by the rows of desks on either side. A podium with the OFC logo on the front - an astrological Venus symbol with a keyhole in the center of the circle - was waiting for her, the attached microphone already live. On either side, expectant men were waiting on her report. Most were older, but a few were young stars on the rise. It was an intimidating position to be in, seeing more men in a morning than most women in the post-reconstruction would see in a week, but Shannon kept steady. Her asshole was hurting, the back of her head was throbbing, her throat was scratchy, but she kept walking along with the cum-streaked smile plastered on her face. One of the younger men, seated closest to the aisle, leaned in and gave her round ass a slap as she moved by.  
  
Some of the department heads had comfort women with them, females they had asked to suck their cocks or lick their balls during the meeting. It was courtesy for these women to keep their gasping and moaning to a minimum, and for the men to select only women who didn’t have pressing tasks to attend to for the other men, such as fetching coffee. If there was ever a conflict, the women had no say in the outcome - men decided things between men. Shannon reached the podium, gathered her velise, and took out a sheaf of papers. She tapped the mic and it whined. Her blonde hair was tangle and matted in places where her brother had splashed his cum on it, and she still had dick cheese chunks in her nose and on her lips, not to mention splashes of extra-stinky cum drying on her face. Mascara ran around her eyes in raccoon circles and inky tears.  
  
She looked out over the assembly. There were two-dozen important men in the room, including the head of Female Re-Education, the Commissioner of Truth, and the Minister of Womanlaws. (Womanlaws were, predictably, laws that only applied to women but that men were free to ignore.) Shannon’s smile was absolutely ironclad and pulled so tight it seemed her teeth would break and her lips would tear. She saw three or four heads bobbing in the crotches of the suited men as their cocks were sucked by interns, other women sat nearby so their huge tits and big asses could be groped, reflecting the same sort of twisted, unblinking grin. Every face the same, always no more than one woman to a man.  
  
“Good morning sirs,” Shannon began, fanning out her papers on the podium.  
  
“Get on with it, you stupid cumdump,” said a middle-aged man in the front row, immediately. “Your face is covered in cock cheese and you look like you’ve been raped five times already this morning.” He had his hand in the hair of an 18-year-old intern and was choking her nearly unconscious with his thick, long cock as it jutted out of the fly of his slacks.  
  
“Yes sir,” Shannon said. Being talked to this way in the workplace was part of her job. Sexual harassment wasn’t just permitted at the OFC offices, it was almost mandatory. She typically had her ass grabbed dozens of times a day, was assigned to give blowjobs and fetch coffee (despite being more qualified than most of the men when it came to analyzing the surveillance data) and called a stupid cunt. She gathered her breath and began reading the list of key items from the day’s report.  
  
“A final analysis has come in regarding the viability of female livestock enterprises,” she read. “Several pilot programs now being operated in the midwest have shown promise in putting unrehabilitated, non-compliant women and female criminals to use as dairy cows. A report with more information is on file.”  
  
She shifted a paper and moved on. “A raid was conducted on a residence in which seven female dissidents had disabled or sabotaged compliance cameras to make the building look uninhabited. Inside, the non-compliant females were dressed with insufficient immodesty and had arranged a ‘viewing party’ for the banned old media ‘Wonder Woman’. A list of over one-thousand new restrictions on old media has been published by the Commission of Truth. A bulletin will go out to all residents giving them two weeks to dispose of any offending material.”  
  
John Sieg, the white-haired head of the OFC, was in the room. He was a thin man and had the hardest, coldest stare Shannon had ever seen. Now, he spoke up. “Make it known to all networks and news programs that these women are to be referred to as a terrorist cell. All programs should prepare reports indicating the dwelling contained high amounts of homemade explosives, which the women intended to use on elementary schools and hospitals. Link the viewing of banned old media to violent and deviant behavior. Mister Partridge’s department will develop the proper talking points for all networks.”  
  
“Yes sir,” Shannon said, jotting down the notes on her paper as he relayed them, Following the meeting it would be her responsibility to relay them to the appropriate department heads. After doing so, she moved on.  
  
“Speech analytics show that Mr. Partridge’s campaign is showing results and women are increasingly using ‘pussy’ to refer to any orifice in their body and ‘rape’ to refer to any sexual act. Polling data shows that these terms are contributing as predicted to feelings of helplessness and receptaclization in the greater metro area, with an adoption rate of forty percent, and lower rates moving outward to more rural communities.”  
  
“That is still far too slow,” Sieg grumbled. “Inform the network vetting teams that the foremost characters on network womandramas should refer to sexual acts as ‘rape’ and their mouths as ‘mouth-pussies’. Offer a subsidy for any media that meets quotas, from the Finance Ministry’s cultural discretionary fund.”  
  
“Yes sir,” Shannon said, and continued to make notes. “Moving on, an incident of physical non-compliance was caught on cameras early last night,” she said, and her notes indicated an attached video file. There was a laptop with a video link to the large conference room viewscreen beside her, which would be queued up with all relevant media files in order.   
  
She flicked the screen on and a blurry, black and white image popped up. In it, a cocky young man, perhaps no older than 18 or 19, was harassing a woman as she walked. The woman was a brunette, perhaps in her mid-20’s, her hair neck-length, with a thin frame but a large pair of tits, showing considerable cleavage. The male was being very aggressive, groping her has, pulling her to him and mashing her big boobs with his hands, licking her neck and whispering in her ear. Shannon’s eyes narrowed. There was something familiar about the women. The motion detecting camera zoomed in. The male said something. The female said something. They appeared to talk for a second. The male reached his hands clumsily her skirt and threw it up, exposing her butt. The woman’s purse fell to the ground and something rolled out and fell into a storm grate - it looked like a smartphone or tablet device.  
  
_Celia,_ Shannon suddenly thought. _Celia lost her phone yesterday._  
  
The woman became animated. The man looked taken aback… but then reached up to grab her breasts again. Then it happen. The woman put up a hand, extended her middle-finger, and then kicked the young, fit-looking man right in the balls. He was rolling around, clutching his groin, when she trotted off. The men in the room were aghast, watching the footage.  
  
“That terrorist bitch!” cried one.   
  
“Why do we have no better angle than this?” Sieg barked, immediately. He looked around at the other men in the room. “At this distance-”  
  
The woman began to walk closer to the camera as she made her way down the street. It was still color-washed and blurry, but you could *almost* make out her identity. Shannon’s heart was beating a mile a minute, and she nearly lost her womanface as she hoped by some miracle that the identity of the woman would not be discovered. She recognized the place where the incident occurred - an alley behind the FPD, or Female Products Dispensary, nearest the home that she, Celia, Kylie, and Leo all shared. Her heart was pounding and she tried her best to calm herself. The newer cameras, such as those installed in the OFC headquarters, had infrared capabilities and could detect abnormalities in mood.   
  
The clip reached its end as the woman turned down a side-street, giving one final glimpse of the side of her face, partially obscured by hair, before it ended. There wasn’t a blowjob going in the room anymore, the offense had garnered the full attention of every man there. “This is an outrage,” Sieg barked, and looked around again. “Mister Kane, what does the Ministry of Surveillance have to say about this? Why are is there no other footage, or alternative angles.”  
  
The nervous-looking Mister Kane, a black-haired, glasses-wearing spook type, replied haltingly. “It seems several cameras were down for maintenance,” he explained. “This was an older model, due to be replaced.”  
  
“Drones?” Sieg barked.   
  
“None operational in the area at the time in question.”  
  
“Satellite?”  
  
“Too much cloud and smog cover. The satellite network has been largely useless to our department in the metro area for months now, it was in my report-”  
  
“Goddamn it!” Sieg cried, and slammed his desk one with one hand. “I want this female found. Immediately. And when she is, she should be subjected to the harshest re-education. Her rehabilitation, and the results, will be filmed for the edification of the masses.”  
  
Shannon kept her doll-faced smile as she watched the interaction between the men. Kicking a man in the balls was considered an ultimate faux pas. Balls were symbols of male power. Pornography was a government enterprise, strictly controlled, and scenes of ball-worship were among the most popular for men, which meant, they were required viewing for women as well. Women were taught that licking a man’s sweaty, filthy balls was one of their only purposes in life. Shannon had spent many nights simply sucking and slurping at the nuts of her perverse brother, Leo. The lowest, groping man’s nutsack was to be held in higher esteem than even the most intelligent and capable woman.. So to _kick_ them? To potentially damage those sacred nuts? It the heads of the OFC, it was an outrageous crime!  
  
Voices in the room were beginning to rise as the men talked among each other. Shannon kept smiling her brainless smile.   
  
_Oh, Celia,_ she thought. _What have you done now?_  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
“Hellooooo!” Kylie called, chipperly, waving as the door opened to provide passage to the newest customer, a powerfully-built and athletic man with black hair in his early 20’s. “Welcome to Satisfaction!” She was standing in her maid outfit behind the front desk, greeting customers. The owner of the establishment, Mister Phillips, liked to use the peppy redheaded Kylie out front because her womanface was so authentic and he’d never had a complaint about her service. Today was no different; the way her blue eyes lit up below her red hair and puffy, jagged starburst pigtails nobody could ever have thought she was being insincere.  
  
Kylie loved sex, and desired it enough that seeing any man usually made her giddy. As such, she was the perfect employee for a male relief establishment, a combination restaurant, bar and spa in which males with means could come to receive any kind of relief they wanted. While it was true that any woman was available to any man, sometimes the logistics of such couplings didn’t work out - if a woman was tired, ill, or had already been used, it could occasionally lead to a less than satisfactory sexual encounter. Thus, men still felt the need to come to professionals in spite of their unfettered access.   
  
“Will you be dining or using our spa today?” Kylie asked, looking at the man expectantly.  
  
“Spa,” he said, immediately, walking up to the front desk. He wore a button-up shirt and slacks, but no jacket, his sleeves fitted trim to his arms. A young businessman with money and time to kill. Kylie winked and giggled. He was pretty cute, and he seemed ready to get down to business quickly.   
  
“Shall I tell you about our service packages?” Kylie chirped, leaning forward seductively and putting her waist up against the desk, showing off a large amount of cleavage in the frilled front of her maid outfit. Her big nipples could clearly be seen tenting the fabric. “I’m sure we could find something you’d like.”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“It’s a hundred dollars for a throat rape and cock cleaning,” Kylie said, winking. “A hundred more for a body-soaping and wash via breasts. And if you pick a girl who has the equipment for it, you can pay a hundred to fuck her tit-pussy.”  
  
“A girl like you?” the man asked, smirking, and Kylie giggled.   
  
“Oh, you’re making me blush!” she tittered, putting a hand to her mouth.  
  
“What if I’m feeling more aggressive?” the man went on. There was a dark, dangerous sexual heat in his eyes that made Kylie’s tummy quiver.  
  
“Mmm…” she moaned. “Well, I’m sure I can accommodate you… but if there’s medical care needed, additional charges may apply.”  
  
“You really are a stupid fuckin’ whore, aren’t you?” the man growled, and reached across the desk, grabbing Kylie by the cheek and shoving his thumb into her mouth. She instinctively started sucking it. “I need my balls drained, so let’s get started right now!”  
  
“Mmm! Nnnngh… Room… 6… is open!” Kylie purred, and before she could utter another word, she took the imprint of the man’s credit chip and was being dragged down the hall by the hair, her sexy legs skittering on the slipper floor as he aggressively pulled her along. Once inside the room, which featured a bed, massage table, and hot tub with a pleasing low-light atmosphere, she was thrown unceremoniously onto the mattress.   
  
“Ooh, you’re in hurry, aren’t you, Mister…?”  
  
“Ribbonmaker,” the man finished for her, and reached down with two powerful hands to tear her dress downward and expose her breasts, ripping the fabric. Her big, fat milk tanks didn’t just pop out but flopped, bouncing and jiggling on either side of her narrow torso, extended in semi-circles further outside by far than her rib cage. Kylie was growing excited and licked her lips as the man pinned her down and started groping and cupping her titflesh with his hands, pulling first one large nipple into his mouth to suck lewdly and then the other.  
  
“Oooh!” she moaned, mischievously. “You like my tits, huh? But you better not get too caught up and forget about mouth!” She pointed a finger at her lower lip and licked around her shiny coat of gloss.  
  
“You want to suck my cock, don’t you?” Ribbonmaker growled, roughly.  
  
“Mmm, I looooove sucking cock! It’s my favorite thing!” Kylie assured him, her eyes growing half-lidded and her tone conspiratorial. “I hope you haven’t washed your dick in weeks. I love when guys have smelly, filthy cocks and just shove them down my fucking throat!”   
  
Ribbonmaker began fumbling with his belt. “You really are a fucking whore, aren’t you?”  
  
“Mmm! I’ll be whatever you want, sir,” Kylie cooed. When she saw the shape tending Ribbonmaker’s boxers, and the wet stain that his leaking pisshole had made in the crotch of the grey wool, and eyes lit up as she took a deep inhale through her nose. “Nnnngh! It _stinks_!” she moaned, licking her lips. “I hope you have a lot saved up for me. I hope you didn’t wash your cock in months!”  
  
“Here you go, whore,” Ribbonmaker spat, letting his hard cock explode out of the restriction of his waistband, slapping his trim, fix midsection. It was thick, nearly ten inches long, and the bulbous head was swimming in a wrap of foreskin and leaking pre-cum down the shaft. The entire thing looked oily with sweat, and a ring of smegma was visible in the place where the foreskin met his glans and his pisshole poke out.  
  
“Oooh!” Kylie cooed, her eyes lighting up even more. “It’s so big!” She reached up to put her bare hand on the greasy shaft and started stroking up and down, keeping her eyes focused on that meet. “Do you want to use my mouth-pussy, or my tit-pussy? For a double fee, you can use both!”  
  
“I’ll do what I want and we’ll worry about the price later,” Ribbonmaker insisted, and rose to his feet on the mattress, grabbing Kylie by her sprightly red pigtail puffs and hauling her up to a seated position. “Suck my balls, bitch - I know you love it!”  
  
Any woman in Washington would have gleefully told Ribbonmaker that he was right, she did love it. It was, after all, the law to tell men exactly what they wanted to hear. But Kylie, unlike most, really, really did sucking on a big pair of balls. She loved feeling those nuts roll around on her tongue, she loved the taste of the sweat and dried cum and grease as it defiled her mouth, she loved gathering that loose scrotum skin in her mouth and just sucking it clean! Kylie immediately buried her face in Ribbonmaker’s swollen, heavy scrotum and started sniffing and licking, bathing her features in his musk and kissing lewdly at his balls, pursing her lips and slurping first one big, egg-shaped ball and then the other, stuffing her nose into the cleft between them and sniffing hard enough to get his male stench into her nostrils. Her huge breasts hung like fleshy milk bags as she sat splay-kneed on the mattress, thighs spread and orally serviced her customer. The fee was already up to a hundred dollars, of which ninety-five would be kept by the establishment and five would be Kylie’s discretionary income, to spend on female-permitted purchases such as cosmetics, sanitary items, of state-sanctioned female focused media viewing.  
  
Ribbonmaker grunted, clenched his teeth and fell forward, collapsing on top of Kylie and grabbing his big nutsack with one hand, smothering her mouth with it and gathering his nuts like a two-lobed club, shoving them harshly against the underside of her nose. “Smell my fuckin’ sweaty nuts you stupid bitch,” he growled, straddling her breasts and not giving Kylie even an inch to breathe. “Take a big sniff!”  
  
Kylie did, and her eyeballs fluttered from oxygen deprivation and inhaling pure, aerosolized sweat and ball-stink. It smelled like fucking shit, but she loved it anyway. She had been raised basically from birth to be a receptacle for men, to the extent that such olfactory abuse turned her on. She moaned as her eyes began to roll up and backward. The same smile that Shannon and Celia had to work so hard at came effortless as Ribbonmaker’s big balls completely stuffed her nostrils.   
  
It was perhaps 45 seconds before he let her breathe, and by that time Kylie was gasping hoarsely and seeing stars. She knew it didn’t matter if she was damaged - her employer had an insurance policy on her well-being, with him, not her sisters or brother, as the beneficiary. If she was hurt in the line of work, he would see a substantial payoff. It excited her that this man had come in off the street looking to mistreat her - taking such clients was her specialty, and she would often go home with bruises all over her tits, and a scratchy throat from bouts of long, brutal oral sex.  
  
“Peel my dick with your huge cow tits, stupid,” Ribbonmaker spat, and slid backward a bit so he was straddling her small frame and his long cock jutted exactly between her two mounds of breast-flesh. “Clean off my with those fucking milkers!”  
  
Kylie enthusiastically did so, pressing her huge, round tits together on each side of Ribbonmaker’s shaft and bending her nipples up and in to press like like pillows against the point where his foreskin met his glans. She dug her nips into his skin and pressed downward while he instinctively thrust upward, and the friction did the trick. With a wet, swampy sound, his foreskin was peeled back and she was treated to a huge deposit of lumpy, yellowish cock cheese on the underside of his glans. Kylie’s eyes immediately went wide with hunger and she inhaled the pure stench that the newly exposed filth was exuding.  
  
“Fuuuuuck, it stiiiiinks!” she moaned, eye eyes rolling a little. “It’s so amazing!”  
  
Ribbonmaker began to thrust his hips, making Kylie’s big tits vibrate and wobble like gelatin cakes as he drove his cock between them. She used her arms to wrap herself extra tight around him, forming a warm, wet channel for him to fuck, greased up by his sweat, pre-cum and her spit. The sound of his pelvis hitting the underside of her breasts made a soft whop whop whop as he withdrew and thrust again and again.  
  
“Fuck!” he gasped. “Your tit-pussy is so good, you’re gonna… make me cum too quickly, you stupid whore!” Ribbonmaker gasped.  
  
“I want you to!” Kylie moaned, desperately, craning her neck down to kiss and lick at Ribbonmaker’s filthy cockhead as it burst from her cleavage at the apex of each thrust. Much of the cock-cheese had rubbed off between her breasts. “Please, impregnate my tit-pussy! Fucking rape my huge tits! I want my tits to be fucked up by your smelly cum and your stinky cock cheese!” She was egging him on, enjoying the sensation of being roughly used and the tingling it caused in her pussy, her belly and her sensitive breasts. She knew he was close, and as much fun as sex was, the result - the cum - had always been Kylie’s favorite part. She was a total semen addict who considered herself lucky to have a constantly-horny brother with a short refractory period, who was perverse enough to feel her plenty of thick semen in glasses, jars or straight from the source.  
  
“You fuckin… stupid cunt!” Ribbonmaker gasped, and his eyes went wide as he thrust himself as deep as her could into Kylie’s greased-up tit channel. She pressed her arms together extra tight, pilling her tits up extra high so his cock would not emerge from the other side, and quickly a nasty, liquid sound came from within as his balls contracted and started twitching: _Spluuuuuurt, Splrrrrrrrg. Spphphphptht!_  
  
“Oh, fuck, I can feel it! You’re filling my tit-pussy with so much thick cum!” Kylie moaned. She rubbed her thighs together as best she could, nearly coming to orgasm just from the defilement of her large and sensitive breasts. The dark-haired, fit young man was hunched over her like a man pumping a load into a pussy, sweat glistening in the close-cropped bristles of his bangs. He stayed locked with her pressing his muscled pelvis into the underside of her fat, bulging balloons, until at last he settled back. Kylie let her arms fall back as well, and her breasts fell to either side of her, revealing a total mess within. It was like a semen bomb had gone off on the insides of her breasts. Her cleavage was totally covered huge wads of thick cum, chunks of smegma, and curly, black stray pubes that stuck out against the the whitish-yellow goo slathering her fair skin.  
  
“Gosh!” she moaned. “It’s like you were trying to get my tit-pussy pregnant! What a huge load… and now my tits are raped full of your smelly sperm and cock cheese!” She swooned and put her head back on the pillow. “Mmm… you totally used me as a toilet! I love that!”  
  
“I’m… not done yet,” Ribbonmaker panted, huffing and puffing a little. “I wanted to fuck your throat!”  
  
Kylie perked up again instantly and looked down through the valley of her tits toward her customer. “Oooh! You have a lot of stamina, sir!” she complimented. “I love guys who can fuck me and fill me with lots of cum in all my holes!” She licked her lips, and dragged a finger through the mess between her tits, gathering sperm and several flecks of smegma, bring it to her mouth and licking it off her finger. “I especially love drinking cum so please, give me lots!” She was presenting herself as nothing more than a canvas ready to be painted with semen, perfectly in line with the prevailing government attitudes, and her customer responded as expected, standing over her and pulling her head up to his cock, placing her back flush against the headboard.  
  
There was no ceremony before Ribbonmaker stabbed his rapidly-hardening bone into her mouth, pushing implacably forward until the prick helmet jammed into the back of her throat and took the downward angled bend to start penetrating her esophagus. Kylie two puffy red starbursts of hair provided the perfect handles, and her dragged her head and neck around roughly like a man trying to control the steering of an off-road vehicle, showing no care at all for her well being. Drool poured down her chin as she moaned with lust, sliding in bubbly rivers into the already slick canyon between her huge tits.  
  
“Nnngh!” grunted Ribbonmaker, and he thrust his hips, resulting in an immediate wooden BONK as the back of Kylie’s head slammed into the headboard. This action and sound repeated itself, slowly at first but picking up speed and providing a drum-beat background to the sordid proceedings. Kylie was very good at deep-throating and didn’t gag as the shape of a fat, insistent cock bulged out the slender curve of her neck and a pair of heavy, sweaty balls slapped her chin. She reached around to grab her suitor’s muscled buttocks, grabbing them, pulling them in toward her insisting on more - more thrusts, more dick, more uncaring brutality!  
  
Bonk! Bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk. The sound started to grow louder as the man seemed to become more animalistic in his penetration of her throat. The look on his face was one of savagery and bestial release - bushy eyebrows, a hard jawline, clenched teeth, flaring nostrils, rivulets of sweat cutting into the creases of his brow. With every breath he seemed to call Kylie a _cunt_ , a _bitch_ or a _whore_ , he spoke of raping her throat-pussy, of messing her up and destroying her, terms once used for conflict and warfare but now passing into the parlance of sexual conquest by mandate of the OFC. He spoke of using her as a toilet, not literally (though such acts certainly weren’t forbidden) but simply as a reminder that the act of fucking her was no more meaningful than the act of evacuation of bladder or bowels, raping a woman’s throat-pussy was satisfying like taking a much-needed piss was satifying, the interaction and relative power between the sexes, man to woman, was no different than the relationship between man and urinal.  
  
Kylie was growing dazed, she could feel her brains being scrambled and rattling in her skull and _loved_ it. Her days were filled with so many sexual encounters they sometimes grew mundane, it was rare when a man came along with enough pent-up aggressive to give her a truly dehumanizing _skull fuck_. She was a beautiful young girl but he was raping her face with all the dignity of a man stuffing leftover sausage into a garbage disposal. Bonk. Bonk. Bonk. The sounds were loud enough, echoing strong enough, to be heard in the main lobby. Her gorge was being tickled by the constant movement of his thick, veiny cock, her throat was being abraded and stretched, yet she was never in danger of vomiting. Vomiting during oral sex was not precisely against the rules - it was occasionally an unstoppable physical compulsion. However, women who vomited too often were occasionally suspected of not trying hard enough to perfect their skills in oral compliance, and it could lead to tickets, fines or sanctions if enough infractions occured.   
  
Kylie would never have this problem. Her perverse brother had been skull fucking her, literally since the moment it was legal. (He had set his watch to mark the exact second, and shoved his fat, unwashed, stinky cock down her throat on her birthday.) She had large dildos she used to core out her throat all the way to her stomach, and practiced with them daily. She slept with Leo’s cock in her mouth and blew him daily while he played video games. Sometimes he laid on his stomach, playing games, with her face underneath his crotch, and humped her throat into the mattress for hours, ejaculating multiple times without ever taking his cock out of her mouth. This didn’t bother Kylie at all, and she had difficulty relating to the troubles of her older sisters - Shannon, who was mostly hopeless at sex but tried her hardest anyway, and Celia, who was talented at it, almost seemingly against her preference. It seemed sometimes like Celia was embarrassed about how much cock she could suck, and Kylie honestly couldn’t understand why. Kylie was proud of every inch she could swallow.  
  
“Nnngh! Fuck, you fuckin’ stupid toilet! Women are pieces of trash!” Ribbonmaker grunted, and began slamming his hips forward as he approached his climax. Before he had only been mostly uncaring, now he _really_ didn’t care. Kylie’s skull was bashing into the headboard with force brutal enough to nearly cause it to splinter. Her arms fell limp to her sides as she lost consciousness for a moment, a flash knockout, only to come back to her senses with her brains still being scrambled by repeated face-fucking blows. Kylie’s eyes were growing red and tears slid from the sides, but it was simply the lack of oxygen and all the pre-cum and throat slime in her throat and nose… not any sort of mental distress. She lived to be a cock toy and this, she knew, was her lot in life.  
  
_Crunch._ Her nose was broken as Ribbonmaker slammed his pubis into it at full speed and her head rattled against the headboard, leaving her nowhere to go. It was the second time this had happened to Kylie in her life; the first time had been with her brother, after she had (intentionally) teased him into a horny rage. There was a starburst of pain, but Kylie knew from experience that medical treatment for sex-related injuries was covered by the government. Her partner yanked her hair up until her twin-tails were totally taut, leaning against her face, putting all his weight on her, making sure he was buried to the hilt and his fat cock was more than halfway to her stomach. He grunted like an animal as he began to cum into her well-raped mouth and throat.  
  
Kylie could feel the hot, chunky splashes of semen pouring deep into her guts and felt a wave of euphoria wash over her. She really did love cum, to the extent that a nice, big dose could give her a rush of pleasure and endorphins, and Mr. Ribbonmaker seemed like he had quite a load in his balls. She could tell his shots from the feel and from the number of times he clenched his buttocks and hissed out breaths from his clenched teeth. Five. Six. Seven. Spurt after thick, chunky spurt of his backed-up semen was becoming her meal.  
  
When he pulled out, a bridge of thick cum-strands connected his cock with her mouth. Kylie’s face was slightly out of sorts because of the crooked nose, but there wasn’t much blood at all - just a tiny thread out of one nostrils. She painted through her mouth, blowing semen bubbles with her tongue out and her eyes rolled back, making a show of how destroyed she was. “You… totally raped my… throat-pussy…” she complimented. “Thank you for fucking up my face. You’re so amazing!” She rubbed her thin midsection to show she treasured the cum inside. Her eyes were already beginning to purple up nicely. She would probably be out of action for a few days, professionally, but Kylie knew she could defend on her pervert brother to make her suck his unwashed cock and clean his smegma whether she had a broken nose or not.  
  
There was papery rustle as Ribbonmaker held up his credit chip and swiped it on Kylie’s wristband. This electronic transfer device didn’t give any money to her, of course, only to the establishment. “Get that taken care of,” he ordered. “If it’s more than that, have your boss bill me.” He sat down on the mattress and began to put his pants and shirt back on. Kylie slumped down to the pillows, her breasts flopping to either side of her. She was a total mess, but somehow her chipper sexual enthusiasm still shone through. Through blurry eyes she saw that Ribbonmaker was watching a news broadcast as he slowly dressed, playing on the wall-mounted video screen with the volume off.  
  
“THE LINK BETWEEN NONCOMPLIANCE AND TERRORISM” the chevron read, and an earnest female newscaster was speaking silently. After a few seconds of this, the broadcaster turned to the side camera and began speaking earnestly about the next story. Again, her words couldn’t be heard, but the chevron changed to “FUGITIVE NC WANTED IN WASHINGTON AREA”. NC, of course, meant ‘non-compliant’. Still images from a video were being shown next to the newscaster’s head - black and white grainy shots that depicted a woman being groped and then responding by kicking a man in the balls. She was thin, with brown hair and large breasts, and struck Kylie as quite familiar. Ribbonmaker grunted when he saw this.  
  
“I hope they throw the book at that bitch,” he grunted.  
  
Kylie crawled across the bed and rubbed a hand between his legs. “Mmm, yes,” she cooed, her noise a bit buzzy because of her broken nose. “These amazing balls are where you make all that thick cum. I would _never_ disrespect a man’s balls.”  
  
Ribbonmaker looked down with annoyance. “Fuck, I already fucked the shit out of your throat-cunt and you still want more?” he marveled. “Don’t you ever get enough?”  
  
Kylie giggled and licked her lips, and on the television, a man appeared on the broadcast desk, his pants pulled down to show hairy legs, and began to jerk off in the female newscasters face. As he sprayed her features with rope after rope of semen, she did not even react.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
“All rise,” the bailiff ordered. “The tribunal will now commence in the matter of Alicia Shance vs. the Office of Female Compliance.”  
  
Celia stood up ramrod straight in the jury box, one of twelve women. Putting a man on a jury would never work, of course - the women would all feel compelled to vote the same as him, since his thoughts on the case would be mantruth and thus, indisputable. Thus Celia was in a herd of a dozen women from all walks of life, dressed in their best suits, all within the proper boundaries of immodesty. Hemlines were up, high heels were on, makeup was exaggerated, bustlines were enhanced and put on display. It was an OFC case, after all, and every woman there knew men would be watching. They wore identical, uncanny plastic smiles. The bailiff, also a woman in a black security uniform bearing an OFC badge, wore the same smile. There were nearly three-dozen women in the room in all, among the jurors and gallery, and only three men - the judge, the prosecuting barrister, and the defense barrister.  
  
At a table ten feet away from the judge’s raised platform, Alicia Shance, a blonde woman with a pixie cut and an athletic figure, stood handcuffed in a jumpsuit of prison orange. Even prison uniforms obeyed modesty standards, consisting of buttock-revealing shorts and tight crop-top shirts, and Alicia’s pasted-on, toothy smile seemed to barely hide her dismay. In fact, she looked about to cry. Celia could relate. Since the incident the night before, she’d been constantly on edge and about to break down. She knew that if anyone found out, she could find herself wearing prison orange just like Alicia Shance, or worse.  
  
“Alicia Shance, you are charged with violation of Section 1, Paragraph 4 of the Compliance Charter, that all men are equally superior. How do you plead?”  
  
“My client pleads not guilty, your honor,” said the defense attorney, a blonde-haired man. “It is our contention that Miss Shance’s actions constitute proper compliance and respect for the superior sex as put forth by ther Charter.”  
  
The prosecuting attorney spoke up on behalf of the OFC at that point. “Your honor, to put this matter quickly to rest, I have exhibits to show exactly what that short-haired cunt was doing,” he said.” He received the nod from the judge and moved toward a table in the center of the courtroom, putting up several posters in frames. Each one was a picture of a different muscled, buff hunk, flexing and posing.   
  
“Ladies of the jury,” he said, “The OFC will demonstrate that Alicia Shance was non-compliant with men who didn’t meet her physical standard. These posters were found in her apartment, and they fit the profile of her day-to-day activities, carefully curated to make sure she interacted only with men of a certain profile.”  
  
The jurors looked amongst each other and Celia saw immediate looks of anger. Picking and choose men to comply with was a big no-no; even though Celia could relate to it. The fact was, every one of the women on the jury had been fucked and groped by dozens of overweight, hairy, smelly, unwashed, old men, and had no choice in the matter. If they had to do it, they would certainly have no sympathy for someone like Alicia Chance bucking the system.  
  
The OFC called a witness named Burt Tallow on behalf of their case, a very large and sweaty man who had to mop his forehead after the effort of squeezing onto the witness stand. He had at least five days of stubble in his neckbeard. He was asked by the prosecutor about his repeated interactions with ‘that blonde, cocksucking piece of shit’.  
  
“When I approached that dyke bitch she told me she was in the middle of her registered menstruation period, and also had a Category 3 illness,” he alleged.  
  
The prosecutor used this line of testimony to bring proof of the fact that Alicia Chance’s was committing menstrual fraud by introducing medical records. He began bringing out charts and records. He made a case that Alicia had a fetish for fit, muscled men, putting one type of man above another in strata. This was strictly forbidden, and he repeated the mantra that all men were equally superior to women. Celia watched it all with a numbness, her mind slipping back to the day that boorish lout had accosted her. He’d groped her ass and tits, called her a cunt, and told her to get on her knees so he could fuck her mouth. After having such things happen several times that day, Celia had simply snapped. First, she had lost her womanface, which had only made the man more insistent, and he had attempted to blackmail her with it. Then, she had kicked him in the balls.  
  
She looked up from her thoughts to see that Burt Tallow was interrupting the proceedings. “Do you mind if I get a blowjob while I’m up here, your honor?” he asked the judge. The motion, such as it was, was granted, and the portly witness cast a lecherous eye over the assembled women, stared blankly out with their stretched, lunatic smiles.  
  
_No way,_ Celia thought. _Not today. My luck can’t be this bad._  
  
But it was. Tallow pointed directly at her. Celia, cursed with a graceful, petite runway model frame and big, round tits, had attracted his attention more than the other women. For a moment she almost cried at the hypocrisy - Alicia Shance was on trial for preferring good-looking men, meanwhile, this fat toad on the witness stand could simply pick any woman he wanted because she had the biggest tits in the jury box. It was only with the greatest difficulty that she was able to prevent herself from rolling her eyes and scowling.  
  
“The juror will attend to the witness while we proceed,” the judge ordered, and just like that, it was decided. Celia was rousted by the bailiff and escorted out of the jury box. She looked over at Alicia, and she thought she saw some recognition there between them - two strong-willed women for whom compliance was nothing but a misery - before it faded behind their jester smiles. Celia stepped into the witness stand and found crouching space for herself between Tallow’s meaty legs. He unbuckled his pants and began to squirm out of them. A waft of sweaty dick stink blew into Celia’s face.  
  
“I haven’t cum in a while so I’m real backed up,” he confided down to her, huskily. “Haven’t had a chance to take a bath, either.” His underwear came down next, and when the strained briefs slid down over his thighs, Celia came face to face with what he was packing and nearly cried out. It wasn’t as long as her brother’s dick, but it was the fattest, most disgusting cock she had ever seen. Big swollen balls that seemed the size of fists led up to a tapered shaft that seemed as thick around at the base as a coffee can. It was _enormous_. “Do a good job of cleaning my dick and remind that terrorist cunt what compliance is all about!”  
  
Celia placed her hands on his hairy, fat thighs and boosted herself up into sucking range. She was on the verge of simply breaking out of womanface and punching this guy right in the nuts, but restrained herself due to the obvious consequences - to do so during a trial would result in harsh penalties. His cock smelled _so bad_. It _stank_ like rotten cum and dogshit. There was a clumpy, chunky ring of crumbly smegma around his glans that rivaled even what her brother could produce… and the goddamn thing was so thick it would dislocate her jaw!   
  
Tallow reached into her hair and began to pull her head down. The smegma-loaded head smeared against her lips, seemingly the size of her fist, and at last she opened her jaw wide, her light brown eyes staring soullessly ahead and filled with distress. His fat cock began to burrow into her mouth with the creak of her tendons and jawbone. She immediately gagged and dry heaved all over it, punctuating the prosecuting attorney’s argument with glottal choking noises, _hurks_ and _horks_ and _gluuuuuuuuuuuark_!  
  
“I’m going to let you eat all my dick cheese and backed-up, yellowish semen,” Tallow confided. “You should feel lucky!” He sighed and began to drag her head all over his cock, up and down, up and down, pummeling her throat and stretching her lips with his girth. “Jeez, your throat is super-tight! It’s rough fitting in there, but I kinda like that, you know?”  
  
Celia moaned pathetically and her eyes fluttered and rolled back. The fat scumbag was cutting of her air and what few breaths she could muster will filled with the stench of smegma and sperm. She could feel chunks of dick cheese breaking off, mixing with her saliva and sliding down her throat. The cock’s fat pisshole was disgorging a constant stream of nasty pre-cum as well.  
  
The prosecutor was producing records that proved Alicia had been untruthful in relating her menstrual cycle in order to avoid sex. The defense attorney tried to pass it off as an innocent mistake. Female brains, he said, had been proven my government scientists to be smaller than male and less capable of remembering things. It wasn’t Alicia Shance’s fault that she was a dumb bitch, and her mind had been further clouded on that day by the flu.   
  
Meanwhile, Celia felt like her jaw was going to break. She was wearing a tight necklace of pearls and they snapped and scattered everywhere when Tallow’s enormously thick cock burrowed deeper into her throat, making her neck bulge into the shape of his prick helmet. She had already swallowed what seemed like an entire mouthful of his dried sweat, cum and piss, and now he was slowly jerking her impaled face on his cock, making her drool on his balls, and getting closer to climax. “I hope you like having a stomach full of my backed-up, stinky cum and cock cheese you stupid cunt!” he hissed, and the judge banged his gavel to bring the court to order, telling Tallow that if he couldn’t keep his sexual encounter silent on the stand, he would have him removed from the court.  
  
Tallow grunted an apology as he popped off down Celia’s throat. A fat, backed-up yellow cum worm that seemed as thick as taffy blew out of his cocktip and coiled up in her stomach. Then another, and another. Celia could feel the foulest, genetically defective garbage on earth being dumped into her body and gurgled with dismay, though it was indistinguishable from pleasure to the few who might care. Tallow kept a fist in her hair while he emptied himself, her nose pressing into his fat belly, making her sniff his sweat-matted pubes. Before she passed out from lack of oxygen, Celia heard the prosecutor ask the judge to call for a jury deliberation based on the facts before the tribunal. If convicted, Alicia Shance would be assigned to a compliance re-education facility for a period of one year, where she would be raped dozens of times each day by the fattest, most physically unappealing men available and bombarded with drugs and psychological suggestions to rid her of her preference for one type of man.  
  
Celia’s vote consisted of her slumping to the floor. The final tally was 11 votes of guilty and one sexual abstention. She came back around to see Alicia Shance being taken away, her mouth tasting like a cum sewer, her lips smeared with sperm and smegma. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. She tilted her mouth into a crazed, soulless smile with difficulty, and wondered what would become of her. 


	2. Shannon's Crazy Day

“Can I help you?  
  
Shannon nearly yelped with surprise at the voice, maintaining her composure only with difficulty. She had been browsing at the Compliance Cosmetics outlet nearest her home, picking up new eyeshadow, lipstick, and other trappings at the request of her boss. As she stood at the backlit product racks and their mirrors, shoulder to shoulder with other women who bore the same _fakehappy_ expression, the last thing she had expected to hear was a _male_ voice.  
  
“Of course!” Shannon said, automatically, smiling sweetly and putting on her most impregnable womanface. Even in the question of whether she needed help finding products to purchase, it wasn’t permitted to imply a male might be able to do as he wished. Thus, _of course, of course, of course_ he could help her. He could, in fact, do anything he wanted.   
  
Normally, Shannon was hyper-aware when any male was around. But she had been daydreaming a little, thinking about her fiery-tempered sister Celia and the trouble she might be in, if the Office of Female Compliance identified her as the woman guilty of kicking an overly grabby man in the pills one fateful night last week. She dared not voice her worry aloud - there were cameras and microphones everywhere - and the so the question of what to do was one she contemplated on her own. One thing she did know was that she couldn’t bring herself to turn Celia in. If her sister was caught and brought to justice for booting a pair of balls (objects of male power which might as well be sacred, if the highly-secular new world order approved of such things), then her whole family would suffer. Celia most of all, but her and her younger sister Kylie would be under suspicion and likely targets for punishment. Even her brother, Leo, might get a reprimand for failing to properly control a female dependent. These truths and more were swirling in her head as browsed the cosmetics, something she did weekly (performing oral sex several times a day tended to require a lot of makeup re-applications), and in the depths of her woolgathering she’d missed the presence of a man. A dangerous and very uncharacteristic mistake.   
  
When Shannon turned (her long blonde hair making an enticing swirl in the air) she saw that the male addressing her was rather young - about her age - and wearing a smartly tailored suit. Like her, he was blonde and his eyes blue; he was looking at her with something like curiosity, and Shannon got the sense that he wasn’t looking to grab her by the scalp and direct her head down for a quick blowjob, or bend her over beside the checkout register for a fuck. At least, not yet.  
  
“That’s what I thought,” the man said, smirking. “I have a good eye for when women get confused and need help. You must be overwhelmed by all the choices.” He gestured toward the racks full of cosmetics, and their focus-tested and government approved brand names, all variations on the same theme with a few different logos and styles, creating the illusion of choice:   
  
_Man Pleaser_ lipstick.   
_Compliant One_ mascara.  
And an eyeshadow simply called, _His_.  
  
“Yes, all the choices make me _so_ confused,” Shannon confirmed, smiling so wide it felt her lips would tear. Of course, this was a lie. She had been buying the same lipstick, eyeshadow and other products for years, and could probably find and purchase them while blindfolded. Compliance Cosmetics was a very streamlined operation with automated checkout kiosks near the entrance and three walls lined with glaring backlit displays. Everything else - counters, free-standing display cases - was a simple geometric shape in grey or subtle and dull violet.   
  
“I know it’s very hard being so stupid,” the man said, and he reached out to pat her shoulder. There was a real look of pity on his face, and Shannon saw he wasn’t just saying this to get a sadistic thrill or play with her emotions, but he was genuinely sorry. She had met men like this a few times - almost always the younger generation - to whom female compliance had always been a way of life and the Minerva virus (and resulting anti-woman sentiment) was nothing but long ago science fiction. This blonde man, handsome and young, an executive of some sort on the rise, actually thought she was a brainless idiot.  
  
“Yes, it’s very hard,” Shannon admitted, and took on a look of regretful shame. She dared not show any resistance, or anything at all counter to what the man expected - such as intelligence or wit. “I’m just so stupid sometimes, I take hours and hours to make decisions about the simplest things.”  
  
“Every woman should have a man around,” the blonde man lectured. “But men are in short supply compared to you women these days. That creates quite a puzzle.” He sighed, then, amazingly, extended his hand for her to shake. “I’m Carter Wolf.”   
  
Shannon kept her composure with difficulty. A handshake was something usually shares only among men, with touching in female cases usually limited to non-consensual kisses, ass-slaps, gropes, pelvic rubs, and pussy-grabs. It was actually something a man might get in trouble for - treating a woman as an equal rather than an inferior - but clearly Mr. Carter Wolf had no problem, and feared no retribution, despite the many cameras stationed all around Compliance Cosmetics. And that name. Shannon had heard of a Wolf during her time at the Office of Female Compliance; someone higher up in another department. Could it be?  
  
“My father is head of Consumer Compliance,” he went on. “I’ve just been promoted to head of the cosmetics division.”  
  
 _He’s talking to me like a normal person,_ Shannon thought. _I have to respond just how he expects._ She took his hand and shook it with clueless enthusiasm. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand that stuff,” she offered, keeping her voice cheery. “I just came here to get some new lip gloss, since mine ran out!”  
  
“From sucking lots of dicks, I imagine?” Wolf said, conversationally, withdrawing his hand. “And I expect someone as stupid as you probably has difficulting keeping track of how much is remaining.”  
  
“Yes,” Shannon said, her face twisted into that extreme smile, her eyes wide and her expression totally indulgent, hanging on his every world like it was the law of God. “I really am so dumb and forgetful… instead of thinking I mostly just suck dicks!” Her heart wrenched a little at being forced to devalue herself; but this was a feeling that she knew very well, and had to suppress.  
  
“Well,” said Carter, “I want to take Compliance Cosmetics in new directions. It must be shaped to the needs of the women who are the primary consumers. I’m here conducting a little research. That hand shake? I taught my dog to do the same thing. It turns that any dumb animal can be trained, as long as the hand doing the training is well-practiced in the techniques. You women are no different.”  
  
“Oh, that is so interesting!” Shannon complimented. She realized that Carter Wolf really was a true believer. The older generation were well aware that women were intelligent and capable underneath their state-sanctioned facades of compliance; hence the reason for the oppressive and stifling yoke of the new order. Carter was different. A man like him really did think she was subhuman, dumb as an animal. The spritely look in his eyes as he toyed with her was no different than what might show on a man’s face while watching a monkey at a zoo.  
  
“I realize you’re too stupid to understand, and you probably have lots of cum backed up into your brains,” Carter acknowledged. “What I aim to do is, provide more guidance for women as they attempt to meet the proper immodesty requirements. Dressing yourself, taking care of hygiene and your surroundings, it’s all very difficult for someone with such a dumb animal mind.” He sighed, as if this shortage of brain power was a real, crucial issue that had to be overcome if he was to get anything done.   
  
With sudden firmness, he reached out to grasp her blonde hair and control her head, cocking it to one side. “I’d like you to help with some product testing,” Carter said, and Shannon nodded and gasped out her obvious compliance with that command. “Come up to the counter here and take a look at some of our new products, available in this test market only.” He led her by the hair through a parting line of customers. They were all women, taking care not to change their identical smiles and expressions of serenity, lest the cameras record their insufficient facial obedience and label them for re-education. Nonetheless, Shannon knew well enough what they were thinking - something was about to happen, and they would have no choice but to hear and see it, regardless of what Mr. Carter Wolf had planned.   
  
There were some unfamiliar boxes with product samples at the counter, new labels and logos that Shannon didn’t recognize.   
  
“This is called _Dumb Bitch_ ,” Carter explained, and he uncapped a lip gloss and held it out to her. It was a pretty, natural shade, similar to what Shannon was already wearing, though a bit shinier and sure to make her lips look more moist. “It’s been scientifically formulated based on all of the latest research about the female brain.” He put an arrogant hand to his chest and seemed to address the room at large. “What women really crave is to be told what to do, like they were a dog or a dumb pack animal. And you are a stupid piece of shit, right?”  
  
“Y-yes!” Shannon agreed, her smile stretching thin, but holding. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m… I’m actually just fucking retarded!”  
  
Carter smiled his hawkish grin and nodded as if he had expected nothing better. “Go ahead and put that on, and tell me how you feel.”  
  
Shannon immediately brought the lip gloss to her smiling mouth, pursed her lips, ran the stick over them a couple of times, made a kissing motion to spread the new coating of gloss around. “It’s… great!” she said. “I feel amazing!” She would have told him the same even if the stick had literally been made of dogshit. It was just her luck to be caught up in such a situation. Because of her blonde-haired, blue-eyed good looks and her skills at keeping a proper womanface even in the worst of situations, Shannon tended to be picked out by males in all manner of public places. Her natural gifts - including her large breasts - were more a curse than a blessing in this way.  
  
“Does it make you feel like sucking cock?” Carter asked, and Shannon immediately nodded.   
  
“Oh, very much. I just want to choke on a big, fat cock right now!” she gushed, squinting her eyes into a carefree smile.  
  
“That’s very good. We have numbers that suggest that after long sessions of face-fucking and oral rape, women can sometimes have difficulty engaging with the proper compliance demeanors. My goal with the _Dumb Bitch_ line is to make cocksucking an aspirational goal, the same way that a stupid ape might pursue a banana. This will be done through a combination of marketing and physical side-effects of the ingredients.”  
  
Shannon didn’t feel any different - she was still dreading everything that was happening and didn’t feel any more like performing oral sex than she usually did, which was ‘not at all’ - but she new she had to play along with whatever Carter said. “That sounds so smart, Mr. Wolf!” she agreed. Her heart sank as he tight hold of her hair again and tugged her downward toward the crotch of his smartly tailored trousers.  
  
“That’s a good dog,” he said, absently, leaning back against the counter and taking his ease. “Let the brainlessness drive you. Really accept your animal intelligence.” He chuckled to himself as he forced Shannon’s dainty nose up against the bulge in his crotch. His cock, made erect from their interaction, was pressing the pleats up against the underside of his belt. “What am I saying? Your female brain is too small to truly understand such instructions. But don’t worry! It will come naturally to you! Nobody needs to teach an imbecile _how_ to be stupid, after all!”  
  
“Y-yes sir!” Shannon said, as he rubbed her face back and forth on his boner. She fumbled her hands up and unbuttoned his fly, her face bathing in his male musk she fished his cock out. It was a meaty piece, seven or eight inches and quickly growing turgid. The heady stench told her he hadn’t washed it recently, perhaps since indulging in some bitch-fucking the previous night. Shannon tried to imagine what it would be like, blowing this arrogant man and having to listen to his diatribes and his degrading remarks; all while keeping a smile on her face. Her eyes began to water again as he took hold of her head and butted her nose up against his prick helmet, pressing the weeping pisshole against her nostril.  
  
“Get a good sniff of my male essence,” he instructed, and Shannon did so, her eyes rolling back a little as she took a mind-numbing whiff of sweaty dick-strench straight from the knob. She inhaled as long as she could and then gasped, panting for a few breaths before turning up her face and smiling. Smiling wide and looking at her ’benefactor’ with worshipful adoration.   
  
“Your cock smells so good!” she moaned.  
  
(It smelled like garbage.)  
  
“I love it when guys shove their smelly cocks in my face that they haven’t washed for days.”  
  
(She hated it.)  
  
Carter beamed with satisfaction. “It’s just as I suspected! The unique formulation of this lip gloss has sent your randy female mind into a state of rut!” He gathered up his balls and stuffed them up under her nose - big, plump orbs that were sprouting with curly brown hairs in places. “Well, you can sniff your fill of my sweaty balls if you like it so much!”  
  
“Ssssank… nyou!” Shannon moaned, and inhaled again with that fist-gathered ball bag bending her septum upward.   
  
“Women really are pieces of shit,” Carter sighed with satisfaction. “The money we waste with vanity products to create the illusion of free will is nonsense. This why cosmetic lines like _Dumb Bitch_ , _Throat Rape_ and _Skullfuck Me_ will be so successful.” He looked around to the room at large, where women were still taking their purchases through the automatic checkouts, paying with whatever meager money they were allotted by their male sponsors, be they husbands, brothers, or fathers, all with the same pasted on smiles on their faces. Watching other women get fucked in front of them was just a normal part of their lives, and when Carter asked his question, there was a chorus of responses, all with the same general emotion behind them:  
  
 _Yes, sir. I agree, sir. Yes, it will be successful. I would certainly wear “Skullfuck Me” eyeshadow, because I am very stupid and I like getting throat-fucked by cocks very much._  
  
Carter pinched Shannon’s nose shut and shoved his balls against her mouth, smothering her. “You like this, don’t you?” he asked, almost conversationally, and Shannon nodded even as her face turned red, and then purple. Her vision swam but she still managed to keep her expression of agreeable happiness; a minor miracle. Her _womanface_ was her suit of armor; in her time at the Office of Female Compliance she had seen hundreds, thousands of cases where women were put into re-education programs for failing to maintain a proper outward mood, and as a result she was more expert than most in keeping up her facade, even in extreme cases like this one.  
  
“Hnnnngghhhlll…” she groaned, physically unable to stop herself. She was going to pass out, but still didn’t show any sign of resistance or complaint. Just when she was about to keel over, Carter relented and pulled back, letting Shannon take in one long, whooping breath. She kept her smile, showing teeth even as she panted to bring oxygen back into her body.  
  
“I’ve always thought that since women have such small brains they should need less oxygen,” Carter mused. “I should have the scientists at Consumer Compliance look into it!” And of course, Shannon nodded at the brilliance of this revelation, even though it had no basis in reality.  
  
“Of course, whatever you say, sir,” she panted.  
  
“You’d rather have cock in your body than air, anyhow,” Carter prompted.  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Tell me, what do you think about cocks?” he went on, jacking his dick directly in her face and holding her in place with a fistful of hair.  
  
“I love them!” Shannon panted brightly. In truth of fact, she never wanted to see a cock again for as long as she lived, but that was just another one of those things she was required never to reveal. She hated blowjobs, loathed anal sex and didn’t get much pleasure from vaginal fucking either, but the way she carried on, you’d never know it. “I really would rather have a man’s cock in my mouth than anything. And I love it when men grab my hair and jerk off on my face.”  
  
“Is it difficult being such a stupid ball-sucking cunt?” Carter said, with an almost comical indulgence, as if he were asking a cancer patient about her prognosis. “Do you often find yourself in distress when a man isn’t around to fill your mouth with sperm?”  
  
Shannon’s eyes were leaking tears again, a combination of his rough treatment and the relentless nature of the required performance. Her smile was even _more_ unnatural if anything, a painted-on, joker grin. “Oh yes, it’s very difficult being such a stupid cocksucking retard! If I didn’t have men to rape my throat and feed me huge loads of semen I think I would just _die_!”  
  
Carter added another hand to her hair, taking two fistfuls, and dragged her roughly around so her back was close to the counter. When he then pulled forward, Shannon knew exactly what to do. She opened her mouth dutifully and let his long, eight inch meat - which by now was completely hard, for it was clear the man was a sociopath who got off on the validation of his theories of male superiority - deep into the back of her throat. There was nothing romantic about it, not the smallest amount of concern for her. His leaking, throbbing prick helmet, which suddenly felt as if it was the size of an apple, rammed into Shannon’s windpipe and caused her to start gagging and heaving pathetically almost immediately.  
  
Even her well-practiced enthusiasm couldn’t make up for the fact that she wasn’t as skillful with deep-throating as her youngest sister Kylie. Dealing with her brother Leo’s big penis had given her plenty of chances to hone her craft, and yet her diaphragm still bucked, she still blew out thick ropes of throat slime all over Carter’s cock shaft and balls, and her eyes immediately began to water and turn red. Impossible as it was to smile under such circumstances, or hold any facial expression really, Shannon did absolutely nothing to resist, and signaled her compliance with passivity.  
  
“Quite a tight throat,” Carter grunted, as he started thrusting. “As well as you present yourself under immodesty guidelines, I imagine you must suck a lot of cock.” He thrust forward with slightly more force and Shannon’s blonde head banged against the wooden counter. THUNK! She saw stars momentarily, but as he continued to thrust, her instincts to please and conform didn’t falter. Each time his cock burrowed down her throat she made a gulping, gagging noise. Saliva flew from her bottom lip and hung on her chin in syrupy, foamy ropes. An entire mouthful of throat-slime, pre-cum and her own bile filled her cheeks to puffing up, and Carter pulled his cock out and turned her head sideways so she could hork it up onto the floor tile as coldly and uncaringly as a man emptying a wastebasket.   
  
Shannon’s mascara was running from the brutal throat fuck, staining her cheeks with black tears, and Carter addressed this as he pumped his hips and knocked the back her head against the counter again and again. “Look!” he grunted, his voice strained with the efforts of his irrumatio. “The sign of an inferior product! When the Dumb Bitch line is fully developed, it will be much more resistance to running and smearing!” He looked around. “Doesn’t that sound good, ladies?”  
  
“Y-yes!” said a brunette woman, whose smile was so stretched and unnatural her mouth looked ready to tear. “That sounds… amazing!” her voice was cracking and she seemed very close to dropping her womanface. She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued. “I’m always saying… my makeup gets messed up so early in the way when guys fuck my face like its a pussy!”  
  
“A woman’s face is nothing but a cum toilet anyway, but a presentable appearance should still be maintained, for men who desire a fresh fuck,” Carter said. He continued to stab into Shannon’s throat, and her drooling, puking spit-bursts were soaking her blouse through and showing off her enormous double-D tits. He grunted, withdrew his cock from Shannon’s face, gathered a huge mess of drool and spit and rubbed it all over her features with his hand. “I bet you never thought of it in those terms, did you?” He was asking the room at large.  
  
“No sir, I’m too stupid,” came one reply.  
“I could never come up with an amazing idea like that! Men are so smart!”  
“I’m just a dumb bitch who swallows cum, I barely have a brain in my head!”   
  
The women laughed together with their pasted-on smiles, as if the entire thing was a hilarious joke, and Carter laughed as well in his condescending way. Meanwhile, his throbbing, cum-leaking prick helmet was absolutely battering Shannon’s throat into oblivion, and the back of her head was making resonating thumps against the display kiosk wall. The repeated blows to the head were disrupting her normally unassailable poise a little, as each one made her see stars.  
  
Shannon had occasionally encountered men who were impressed by her ability to remain unbothered by even the most aggressive sexual acts. Usually they grunted their approval into her ear while putting her ankles behind her head, or while sucking and groping her large, round tits. Rarely she would get a man who saw her constantly-smiling demeanor as a challenge, and these always made for difficult days and evenings, as they forced her to endure more and more degrading circumstances. Usually the smile would stay on her face until they were spent, or the man dared go no further lest he damage her and be made to pay restitution to her brother Leo for putting her out of commission and robbing him of his morning blowjobs and cock-cleanings.  
  
The most insufferable type of man was not either of these types, though. They were men like Carter who didn’t care at all if she was in discomfort or not, and could gleefully bound her throat until she slumped over totally limp. She could tell the young blonde executive had a cruel streak from the way he dug his prick tip into her esophagus and seemed to root it around, making her gullet stretch to take all of his thick meat, and from the way he addressed her and the other women.  
  
“Get your tits out,” he ordered, watching the assembled cosmetic-shoppers as he continued to skull-fuck merrily away at Shannon’s gagging, dry-heaving face. Long, ropey runners of phlegm, sperm and throat-slime were splattering down her chin and onto her blouse-clad breasts and the floor. To emphasize his point, he reached down and tore open Shannon’s shirt, causing a shower of buttons and exposing her bra before ripping that down as well. She was now totally exposed, being face-fucked steadily while her tits were groped.   
  
The women unzipped jackets, unbuttoned blouses and pulled off tee shirts en masse. Normally it was a bit taboo for a man to walk into Compliance Cosmetics and monopolize all the customers - all the women had males elsewhere who were waiting for their attentions, and if they were late, they would want to know why - but Carter Wolf, with his position as part of the government, had immunity from the complaints of normal male civilians. He made a tsk noise with his tongue as he watched the doffing of clothes. “That’s a good deal of covering up you’re all doing,” he assessed. “I could cite you for improper immodesty! As far as I’m concerned, every one of you should have your tits out all day!”  
  
The women apologized profusely, lining up shoulder to shoulder to show off their enhanced busts. There wasn’t a small chest in the room, every one of them had had considerable state-sanctioned work done. They presented themselves like meat, smiling their puppet smiles, their eyes glassy and perhaps glimmering with barely-held tears. Soon, surrounding Carter and Shannon in a semi-circle were at least eight pairs of bumped up, humiliatingly large fuck juggs. They bulged in round and teardrop shapes depending on the body type; some of the less natural-looking sets showed obvious incision scars. On the larger pairs, the stretched, enormous areolas looked sensitive and large-pored.  
  
“You!” Carter growled, pointing to a tall, blonde woman with a pixie cut. She was in her mid-30’s, an athletic type, and because of her frame she had the largest pair of inflated bimbo milk tanks in the room - larger even than Shannon’s double-D naturals. “Tell me about your tits and what you use them for.”  
  
“M-my tits are 38 triple-D,” the woman said, smiling wide and looking at Carter submissively. “I love having big tits because it means more men will grope and suck and slap my tits around. I especially love it when a long, fat cock is shoved between my tits and then cums all over my face!” Shannon could almost see the woman reciting from memory a canned spiel that she thought men wanted to hear; she had probably said similar things a hundred times or a thousand to the strange men that accosted at all hours of the day, in public or private, hissing sex-needy questions into her ear. It was a cursed existence that Shannon knew all too well.  
  
“As expected of such a big-titted sow,” Carter grunted, and withdrew his cock from Shannon’s throat. It came back with multiple strands of spit and sperm attached to her lips. “I want you to get on all fours and moo. You _and_ this one.” He grabbed Shannon’s blonde hair and pulled down on it like a window shade, forcing her to her hands and knees. With the blouse torn, her boobs hung like cow udders as she began to unsteadily crawl forward. Her face was red from oxygen deprivation, her eyes bloodshot, her cheeks stained with black tears of smeared makeup. A false eyelash was laying on one cheek and bubbles of spit and semen were growing and popping in her nostrils. And still she smiled as if nothing was wrong.   
  
“Mooooooo!” Shannon croaked, crawling around on the floor. The blonde woman joined her and together they got down and mooed at each other like animals while the other blank-faced, rigidly-smiling women were forced to watch. “Mooo! Moooo!” They came face to face, pressing their foreheads against each other as they crawled, and with her blonde hair hiding her face from all angles, Shannon took a look into the other woman’s eyes. For the tiniest moment, in the most subtle way, they exchanged a glance that acknowledged how degrading the situation was. Then, they moved their heads apart and continued mooing.  
  
“This is just as I thought,” Carter said, approvingly. His cock, still out of his fly, was ramjod erect. “Women need guidance - to be instructed and herded. A woman left to her own devices can hardly be responsible for her own actions, not with a brain that’s one-tenth the size of a man! And I intend to bring new methods to the Office of Female Compliance that place a greater responsibility on those who actually have the brains!” He sighed, stroking his cock. “After all, you’re all such dumb, big-titted animals… who can blame you if you’re lazy or misbehave?”  
  
A signal flare went off in Shannon’s mind as she crawled along the floor. “Y-yes sir! Please watch while I crawl around and show you my cow tits! Mooooooooo!” She was wearing a pencil skirt and garters, and her crawling was exposing her very round, very shapely ass as she moved, while her tits bounced and bobbed beneath her. She kept her smile - it truly was second nature - but behind it all, she was still thinking about what Carter had said. And about her sister, Celia.  
  
And about unruly women not being responsible for their actions.  
  
She went in a circle before arriving back at Carter’s feet, and he reached down and took a handful of her hair, ignoring the other blonde for the moment - as quickly as she’d been the object of his attention, she was forgotten. Carter rubbed his leaking, throbbing prick helmet all over her face, smearing the leftover spit from her throat-fuck everywhere, pushing his pisshole up against her nostrils pressing it against her lips, even pressing it agains her eyes. Shannon did her best to smile unblinkingly as he milked his prick and trails of pre-seed dripped onto her face. Her throat was burning from all the abuse it had taken… and it looked like there was more to come.  
  
Carter pressed his cock against her mouth and, with two hands tightly in her hair, mounted her throat like a cunt, angling his cock at a forty-five degree angle and spearing into her windpipe with the usual disregard for her comfort. Shannon immediately croaked out a GLUUUAAAARK as he went as deep as possible, driving until his greasy, spit-plastered balls were piled on her chin like big spongy eggs. More spit exploded from her mouth and splattered his nuts, spilling down toward her tits. Carter held her in this position for ten or fifteen seconds while he punished her throat with quick, short microthrusts, then withdrew and let Shannon gasp.  
  
As she drew in air in whooping breaths, he slapped her face with his cock, lining up the girthy log and slapping it down on her like a cudgel onto her lips, cheeks, and forehead, anything that would make a slapping sound. Shannon beamed through the abuse, and even the wincing blinks that came, she sold as semi-orgasmic delight, as if was orgasm, and not discomfort, that made her bite her lip. “Good dog!” Carter mused, smiling. “You really love getting slapped around by dick, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes,” Shannon panted. “It’s my favorite thing. I love it when a guy cockslaps the fuck out of my stupid face for me. It’s so wonderful!” Even with a dozen sensors in the walls of Compliance Cosmetics, not one detected any hint of a lie in her voice or physical reactions. It was perhaps this perfect wall of acceptance and sincerity that pushed Carter Wolf over the edge, and his youthful face grimaced in the midst of orgasm and revealed what he was - the arrogant son of a OFC bigwig looking to make his mark in his first assignment. The act - that of a confident, brilliant revolutionary in product development - was no less false than Shannon’s womanface. Carter Wolf was just the next in a long line of spoiled sons put into positions of power by nepotism.  
  
“Take my cum you fucking piece of shit!” he growled, and tellingly, the genteel way of speaking and framing of the encounter as ‘product testing’ was giving way to his more sadistic tendencies with frightening speed. He took his spurting cock and jammed it as deep as he could in Shannon’s throat, making her jaw creak and her neck bulge with the insertion, blowing out air through clenched teeth as his balls drew up and hitched in time with the muscles in his buttocks. A hot, thick lance of cum spurted down Shannon’s throat and into her stomach. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. each was punctuated by a grunt, and then, in the midst of filling her with his seed, he pulled out and took hold of his still-spurting cock, directing the pisshole directly against her eyeball.  
  
Any woman less practiced than Shannon would have flinched away from the raw, greasy feeling of that spasming pisshole pressing directly up against the dazzling blue of her irises. Only through her commitment to womanface was she able to stay in her slouched position, thighs on calves, knees splayed, mascara running, looking up at Carter.  
  
She was aware of what was happening, knew it all too well. _This man pulled me away from what I was doing, called me a stupid animal, made me crawl around and moo like a cow,_ she thought. _He fucked my head against the counter until my brains were scrambled. He’s made me take his cum into my stomach and now he’s going to degrade me even more. But I mustn’t violate the rules!_  
  
Her actual feelings were irrelevant. The _mantruth_ was that she loved such treatment and would beg for more. So it was written in the laws of the Office of Female Compliance, and so it would be.  
  
“Unnnnnnagh!” Carter grunted, and a fat, chunky cum worm pressed out of his pisshole and spurted all over Shannon’s eyeball, blinding her on one side and causing a burning, stinging sensation. Amazingly, she kept blinking to a minimum. “I’m going to burn your eyeballs out of your fucking skull with my thick, backed-up cum, you fucking sow!”   
  
“Oh, yes!” she groaned. “Jerk off in my eyes, it makes me so wet!” It was a lie agreed upon. Carter reached over to the other eye and repeated the process, holding his cock as it spurted again and again and coated her eyeball in goo. When Shannon was forced to blink, what long, teased out eyelashes she still had remaining became loaded with strands of sticky good as well. She felt rather than saw Carter wipe his dick off in her hair, and then heard the familiar sound of him gathering spit in his mouth… and soon his expectorate was dripping down on her face as well.  
  
“Fuck,” Carter breathed, taking a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and mopping his brow. The woman still in the shop, still bare chested, were all watching him with twisted plastic smiles. “Turn around, you dumb whores,” he barked, and they all immediately did so, leaving him to gather himself. He produced a comb next, fixing his blonde hair, and then straightened his tie.  
  
“I got carried away,” he admitted, and then produced his wallet and took out a business card. “Something about you…” His voice trailed off.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m such a big-titted and made you fuck my stupid face,” Shannon said, as chipperly as she could muster. Her throat was raspy and hoarse, her blouse was ripped, her face slightly bruised from cock-beatings, and her makeup an absolute ruin. Black tears down the chears, falce covered in spit and cum, eyes swimming in big pools of the nasty stuff. “It’s my fault.”  
  
“Yes,” Carter agreed. Then blinked, and shook his head, realizing he’d been inconsistent. “Er… no. This only proves my hypothesis, that women can’t be blamed for what stupid cumdumps they are.” He slapped his fist down in his palm. “After all, how could it be your fault when you don’t even have the brains of a housefly?”  
  
“Yes, I’m very stupid,” Shannon admitted, knowing it was what Carter wanted to hear. She had to validate his beliefs. In her mind, she could already see a backdoor opening, a way to get her sister Celia out of hot water. “I sometimes do just any stupid thing that comes to my head! I think it’s because my brains are so full of cum!”  
  
“Tits, too,” Carter added, and Shannon nodded enthusiastically. That his suggested ‘reforms’ were born out of his own personal biases and sexual proclivities could scarcely be doubted, and Shannon sought to use that to her advantage.  
  
“Yes,” she agreed, smiling in spite of her ruined appearance. “My tits too. My brain and my tits are full of cum from all the cocks I’ve been sucking and titfucks I’ve been giving.”  
  
Carter nodded with approval. “I’ll take this test run as proof that my reservations about female agency are well-founded. Men need to assert more control of you stupid sows, not just allow you to walk around and be fucked willy-nilly!” He seemed galvanized. “Why, just think of all the unauthorized female acts that could be curtailed!”   
  
Carter reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, offering it to Shannon. She took it dutifully, as if she’d just been given the keys to the kingdom. It was well known that if a man were to give a woman anything, she should act impressed, and never bored. Thus, despite her burning eyes and gurgling, cum-filled stomach, she smiled and clutched the card close.  
  
“If I’ve used you too much for your male guardian to enjoy you for the moment, please have him get in touch with my office,” Carter said, managing to sound magnanimous. “The problem of too many men using the same woman is one I’d like to remedy, you understand.” Shannon could not see it, but the card read Carter Wolf, Executive Officer, Compliance Cosmetics, and also featured Carter’s contact info. The nodded and thanked him with mindless enthusiasm.  
  
Carter, remembering at last the other woman, dismissed them with a wave of his hand, telling them to be about their business. Shannon rose unsteadily to her feet. Her blonde hair was a tangle and her pantyhose were torn. Her face was absolutely _plastered_ in an utterly humiliating fashion. “Once I change the system, we’ll need more women like you,” he assessed, barely looking at Shannon, looking instead at his cellphone. “You know, really stupid whores who like eating cum. Women with shit for brains.”  
  
Shannon nodded, and for the first and only time, when her high-heel tottered and her control seemed to waver. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, sir,” she said. She walked to the counter, paid for her purchases with the money permitted for immodesty compliance, and then walked out.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
There was a checkpoint on the sidewalk between Compliance Cosmetics and the home Shannon shared with her sisters Celia and Kylie and her brother Leo. It had not been there as she walked to the store - of that she was sure - but it was there now. Several monolithic doorlike portals through which pedestrians would walk and have their vitals scanned. It was staffed by a contingent of women in OFC security uniforms, no doubt overseen by a male superior, and covered both sides of the street. Even the self-driving vehicles moving busily along the road were made to slow and submit to search.  
  
Shannon permitted herself a sigh and a slight slumping of her shoulders. She had not seen the checkpoint in time to gracefully turn around - her vision was blurry from all the cum in her eyes. If she turned around now and tried to skirt the checkpoint by taking another route, it would be very conspicuous. She had sat in on enough meetings at OFC HQ (usually with a cock in her mouth) to know the methodology. People who avoided checkpoints were eagerly sought after as possible subversives and thrown into re-education camps.  
  
She walked up and got in line, smiling as pleasantly as she could manage. The heel on one of her shoes was damaged, making her a bit wobbly, but she managed to stay upright and exchange the expected happy looks with the other women in queue. Her purse, sung over her shoulder, was bulging with Compliance Cosmetics sample boxes she’d been forced to take. Shannon stared straight ahead, resisting the urge to wipe her eyes and face, as she watched the women in front of her go through the rigamarole of inspection. She knew well how it would go - questions from a severe-looking agent about her mood and her activities, plus anything else they wanted to know.  
  
Minutes passed. The cum on her face had become a gooey crust. She’d put her boobs back into her bra, but her blouse was ruined, and as a result, her tits were still subject to the chill wind, making her nipples poke out with unwilling hardness. At least, it was her turn to step into the scanning arch as the agent issued terse instructions.  
  
“Step forward. Arms out.”  
  
Shannon obeyed and a bright scanning beam, emanating from the side of the device, went up and down over her body. The agent, a black-haired woman with a ponytail and wearing a military-style cap to go with her OFC Security blues, gestured toward Shannon’s purse. A nametag identified her as Agent Callahan.  
  
“Name and occupation?” The question was all business. Security agents, when acting at the behest of their male superiors, were one of a very few females not required to smile at all times.  
  
“Shannon Sell. Logistics and administration, Office of Female Compliance.” For her part, Shannon was still smiling wide.  
  
“What’s in the bag?”  
  
“Samples. Cosmetics.”  
  
Callahan’s brow furrowed as she looked at her scanning screen. “Is that more than your immodesty allotment? It looks like more.”  
  
“I was given special permission.”  
  
Agent Callahan punched in some information on a tablet, then looked up. “Looks like you have a big load of cum on your face. Where did that come from?”  
  
“A wonderful man fucked my throat at Compliance Cosmetics this morning,” Shannon said, cheerily. “Then he came all over my face, and spit on it too. He also ripped my shirt so my big tits were hanging out!”   
  
“And you liked that?”  
  
“Of course! I love it when guys fuck my throat like it’s a pussy, and treat me like shit!” Shannon’s smile stretched so wide it seemed like it would crack. She knew she was being intensely scanned, her every biological reaction recorded for any signs of _womanlies_.  
  
Callahan nodded. “Did the man permit you to put your tits back into your bra? You said he made you take them out.”  
  
“He didn’t specify what I should do once he was done with me.”  
  
“But you kept his semen and spit on your face and did not remove it.” Callahan looked on intently as she was grilling Shannon, trying to provoke a response.  
  
“I made a judgment call based on what I thought he would want,” Shannon explained, her voice even, still smiling. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man in an OFC security uniform approaching her scanning station, and her heart sank. She had been hoping to move through the checkpoint quickly. But if a man was getting involved, that would complicate matters.  
  
“What’s going on here, Callahan? What’s the holdup?” he asked, his voice severe. His nametag identified him as Lieutenant Armstrong. He was a middle-aged man, black-haired with a pepper of grey and white in his goatee and poking out from under his cap. As soon as the male superior made himself known at the scanning station, Agent Callahan’s demeanor immediately changed. Gone was the hard-ass expression, replaced by a brainless, wide smile that totally transformed her face.  
  
“Sir! This person is carrying a suspicious number of immodesty rations.” Callahan spoke in an obedient, lapdog voice, exaggerated in its submission. However, if the intended effect was to curry favor with her boss, it backfired. Armstrong only rolled his eyes.  
  
“Callahan, this checkpoint was set up for one reason and one reason only. If you waste time with minor details we’ll never get out of here, you fucking stupid bitch.”  
  
Callahan kept her smile as she was berated, looking eerily like Shannon. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry I’m so stupid, sir.”  
  
“I should just keep you under my desk at HQ and have you suck my balls, since you’re too dumb to manage a simple security job,” Armstrong went on.  
  
“Yes, sir. I am extremely stupid sir. I would love to suck your big, amazing balls for the rest of my life.”  
  
Armstrong leans in and slapped Callahan across the face, knocking her hat off and revealing long, shining black hair collected into a ponytail. “I swear, if 90% of the male population hadn’t perished with that goddamn Minerva virus, I wouldn’t have to use so many of you useless cocksucking whores in these positions.” Callahan’s eyes watered but she barely kept the jester smile on her face, looking a bit crazed at the abuse.  
  
 _Amateur_ , Shannon thought.  
  
“Show her the picture,” Armstrong prompted, and Callahan, blinking back tears, turned her tablet around and showed it to Shannon. It was an image she knew well - the grainy, black and white security footage, played on a loop, of an ‘unidentified woman’ kicking a man in the balls less than a week prior. A capital offense. And Shannon was, unfortunately, quite sure that the woman in the footage was her ill-tempered sister Celia. Celia, who could barely restrain herself from sarcasm. Celia, who hated the attention of men with a passion. Celia, who already had a drawer full of non-compliance tickets and citations that Shannon had used her contacts at the OFC to get reduced or eliminated.  
  
“Do you recognize this woman?” Armstrong asked.  
  
Shannon’s face, outwardly, made no change. All of her skills at keeping her demeanor even and happy were about to be put to the test. By asking her questions in the scanning booth, Agent Callahan had established a baseline for her biological reactions when telling the truth. If she told a lie, there would be subtle variations in her breathing, heart rate, and facial tics that even she couldn’t control. In short, she was in an impossible situation. Unless-  
  
She reached into her purse and felt around. “Yes,” she answered. “I do.”  
  
Armstrong’s face filled with excitement. “You do! Well, that’s something. We’re going to need to take you out of line and take your statement, so-”  
  
Shannon produced the business card belonging to Carter Wolf, and held it out to Armstrong. “This man thinks I should say yes to any question a man asks me, since I’m such a stupid, cock-sucking retard who drinks cum all day,” she said. Armstrong snatched the card, and his eyes widened.  
  
“You mean-” His eyes went to Shannon’s face, then the card, then her face again. “No matter what the woman looked like, you would answer yes?”  
  
“Yes,” Shannon said, then nodded toward the card. “I work for him, at the Office of Female Compliance.” This was technically true, as any man had dominion over any woman at the OFC. Though Shannon was in a completely different department.  
  
“So you _don’t_ recognize this woman?”  
  
“Yes,” Shannon said again, smiling brainlessly. This was mantruth, and permitted by law, but she was still worried. Having Armstrong come over and question her, she realized, had been a blessing in disguise. She wasn’t permitted to tell a man ‘no’, in any case, which meant his questions were meaningless. He seemed to know it, too, and rolled his eyes again in frustration.  
  
“Fucking stupid bitch,” he groused, stuffing the card back into her purse with the cosmetic boxes. “You really are a fucking idiot, aren’t you? Are all your brains in your tits, you cum-covered slut?”  
  
“Yes!” Shannon said, smiling sweetly, then managed a giggle. “Would you like to put your cock in my mouth now and shoot all your cum into my stomach?”  
  
“Just get the fuck out of here,” Armstrong grumbled. “If you work at OFC I don’t want to hear about how I made you late to suck some bigwigs cock. Get moving.” And, amazingly, he waved her through the checkpoint without so much as a blowjob.   
  
Shannon kept walking, looking straight ahead, ignoring the smiling women at the other scanners who were getting their tits searched, asses groped and clothing checked against the immodesty threshold. She walked a block before permitting herself the smallest of sighs of relief. She had done it - passed through a security checkpoint without getting flagged. Her heart should have been racing, but it was beating only a little faster, almost an imperceptible amount.   
  
That was something that Shannon was quickly discovering about herself.  
  
Her heart didn’t race.   
  
Years and years of practiced womanface had given her nerves of steel.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
It was another fifteen minutes before Shannon arrived home. The family didn’t own a self-driving vehicle - her brother Leo never went outside anyway, and spent all his time playing video games in a tee shirt and pajama pants. When Shannon stepped in the door, he was on the couch as expected, wearing a gaming headset, with their sister Celia bobbing up and down on his cock, giving him a blowjob. Celia, far less adroit at hiding her emotions, was looking none-too-pleased with having to perform oral sex, but she was cursed to be far better at it than Shannon ever could be, snorkeling down Leo’s long, unwashed cockpipe easily, without so much as a choking noise.  
  
Leo glanced over at Shannon as she stood in the doorway. “Hold on, my sister is back,” he told his remote gaming partner, before taking his headset off and throwing it on the couch. He paused the game as well - it was _Sex Quest: Awakening_ , a rousing state-sanctioned harem collection multiplayer adventure that Leo spent hours and hours on each week, collecting the highest quality “Sluts” and engaging in multi-player “sex combat” with his squadron of elaborately-dressed avatars. Leo often talked at length during breakfast and dinner - the two times the family was most often together - about his exploits in the game, and Shannon, Celia and Kylie were forced to nod and engage him, assuring him they were fascinated.  
  
“Where were you?” he asked Shannon. “That took forever. I had to have Celia start licking by balls and sucking my dick instead.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty good, to be honest. I haven’t washed my cock in forever so she was plenty of dick cheese to clean up! She’s totally loving it! Isn’t that right, Celia?”  
  
Celia brought her mouth off of Leo’s long, thick penis and opened it to reveal that her tongue was holding a pile of chunky smegma. She swallowed and squinted her eyes shut.  
  
“Tastes good, huh?” Leo prompted, and Celia’s expresion didn’t change - though Shannon thought her eyes could have melted steel.   
  
“Oh _yeah_ ,” she said, with sarcasm dripping from her voice. “It tastes _amazing_. I sure love spending _hours_ each day cleaning your cock!” Her insincerity was bordering on infraction, but Leo didn’t seem to care, and just shrugged.  
  
“Well, keep sucking, stupid!” he prompted, and shoved Celia’s head back down on his filthy prong. It jutted out with immense size from his crotch. Shannon sometimes wondered what she’d done ina previous life to be cursed with such a lazy, horny younger brother. Leo turned his attention back to her as he forced Celia’s head up and down, seeming to notice for the first time that her face was plastered in semen. “Oh, I get it. I shoulda just pinned a note to your big ass or something, saying I wanted you back and for other guys to fuck off.” He leaned back on the couch. “Or maybe wrote it on your forehead in marker.”  
  
“Yes, what a wonderful idea,” Shannon complimented. The thought of walking around covered in her brother’s scribbles didn’t appeal to her at all, but that didn’t matter. “Speaking of which, I had an idea and wanted to ask you something.”  
  
Leo shrugged. If she wasn’t talking about cooking his dinner, sucking his cock or video games, he usually tuned her out. And occasionally, that was a blessing. Shannon pressed on. “If one of us - say, Celia - ever did something bad and got in trouble, I think I know a way to avoid getting punished.”  
  
Celia’s eyes looked up in Shannon’s direction as she continued to bob on Leo’s long, thick penis. “Why? What did Celia do?” Leo said, already sounding disinterested.  
  
“N-nothing,” Shannon said, quickly. “Nothing. But you know her temper, and… I just thought… well, if she were to get in trouble, you wouldn’t have her around to suck your cock and prepare your food. You know how you like to make her do it.”  
  
“Hmm. Well, I do like to make her do it. And she _is_ always doing stupid things,” Leo mused, and Celia’s eyes grew even more avid during her blowjob. “But I dunno. I don’t want to bother with this stuff now.” She could see his interest entirely leave him, and knew it was over - for the moment. But the seed had been planted, and Shannon knew that Leo would dimly recall the conversation later. Now it was just a matter of getting Celia to go along with it.  
  
Leo grunted and thrust his hips upward, allowing his cock to bury itself to the root in Celia’s suctioning, stretched-out mouth. It was completely degrading blowjob that was making her eyes roll backward, and Celia’s neck was slender enough that Shannon could actually see it bulging around her brother’s fat cock. She stood silently as the noises of ejaculation came - Splllrgg! Spllllrrrt! Spllllrg! - from inside Celia’s throat, each accompanied by a puffing out of her cheeks, cum bubbling in her nose, and then an exaggerated swallowing as a big fat wad of semen bulged its way down her throat.   
  
“Ahhh!” Leo sighed, holding Celia by her chin-length brunette hair. “It really feels good to use your throat as a toilet.” Celia made a groaning noise that could have technically counted as agreement if one were being generous, and then he released her. She squinted her eyes shut and coughed.   
  
“Uuuuggghhhh… your lumpy yellow cum tastes like fucking sh-”  
  
“Celia!” Shannon interjected, tossing her sister a look of warning. Celia cleared her throat, settled down and started again.  
  
“Your cum tastes… very good,” Celia said, more meekly, forcing a smile onto her face. “I… really love drinking it.”  
  
“Good, you dumb cocksucking bitch,” Leo said, patting her on the head as if she were an animal rather than a human being. Celia’s expression darkened immediately, as if she wanted to wring his neck but as barely containing the urge. “Now if you don’t mind I’m going to play video games. Go get my lunch ready, dummy. Shan can help you.” Mercifully, Celia was able to do so, abruptly getting up from the couch and walking over toward the kitchen, where Shannon joined her. The sisters shared an unreadable look for a moment. Leo enjoyed pizza rolls and frozen pasta dinners; often with some sort of iced cream for dessert. They would prepare it together, then sit down for lunch with him. Invariably, one of them would be required to give him a blowjob or sit on his long, thick cock and take it deep in their pussy or ass. He was also endlessly amused by jerking off into their food and watching them eat it with sweet, grateful expressions, or making them drink glasses sloshing with his accumulated cum. It was all a ritual they dreaded, but at least it was one they shared… and a chance to exchange a few words.  
  
“I came upon some info you might need,” Shannon started, looking at Celia meaningfully, trying to hint to her, without any obvious facial subterfuge, that she was about to broach a delicate subject.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Celia said, combatively. Being throat-fucked had put her in a foul mood. One of Leo’s black pubic hairs was on the corner of her mouth, she used the back of her sleeve to wipe it away. “What’s that?”  
  
Shannon looked over Celia’s shoulder as she opened the oven and shoved a tray of pizza rolls onto it. Leo was back to gleefully playing video games, ignoring the both of them, but that didn’t mean they could talk with complete freedom. They still had to be careful. Shannon put her hand on Celia’s shoulder. “If… *if*… you did something bad and were going to get in trouble… I know something that could help you.”  
  
Celia looked momentarily guilty, and Shannon was glad for once that her fiery sister didn’t have a good poker face. “Is that so…” Celia said, and Shannon nodded.  
  
“Yes. But… there’s something you have to do or it won’t work. And… you are not going to like it.”  
  
Celia leaned in closer, looking from side to side. Shannon almost rolled her eyes at the lack of subtlety, but of course she was above such telling expressions. “What is it? What would I have to do?” She paused. “If I did do something wrong, which I didn’t.”  
  
Shannon leaned in and started to whisper in Celia’s ear. Celia’s eyes got wider, and wider, and wider, until she pulled away. “WHAT?” she cried. This time Leo did hear her, and removed one side of his headphones as he turned in their direction.  
  
“Will you fucking bitches shut up?” he complained, then went back to his video game. Meanwhile, Celia’s eyes locked with Shannon’s, still jittering in their sockets with disbelief. Her mouth was ringed with Leo’s cum, Shannon’s face was still greasy with the load she had taken that morning.   
  
“In that… unlikely event… it would be better than… you know. Re-education camp,” Shannon suggested.  
  
“I’d never do that! It’s… too much! And besides,” Celia hissed, returning to her guilty look. “I… I totally didn’t do anything.”  
  
“I work at the Office of Female Compliance,” Shannon said, gently but firmly, her eyes serious. “I know exactly how good they are at tracking down violators. I know exactly how they’ll search. They already have a checkpoint up on the main road to catch… to catch this mysterious person. The only way out for her is to do something that makes the whole issue irrelevant. Because they _will_ catch her.”  
  
Celia’s eyes blazed. “I’m NOT doing something like that!” she growled.  
  
Again she spoke too loud, and Leo had noticed. “Doing what?” he asked, and while Shannon was able to smile wide and act like nothing was happening, Celia failed to do so, and gave a guilty look before her smile kicked in.   
  
“N-nothing!” Celia stammered. But Leo rose from the couch and approached, a mischievous look on his face. He liked nothing better than to annoy his headstrong older sister Celia. Celia gave Shannon a begging look, begging with her eyes that Shannon not tell Leo. But… it was no use. Shannon knew that this was the only course of action that would ultimately keep Celia from harm.  
  
She opened her mouth and began to hint and detail her plan to Leo in terms that he would understand. And after a moment, Leo started to laugh. The more Shannon said, the more Leo laughed. Eventually, he was nearly on the floor with laughter. Only once his outburst was complete, which took nearly a minute, did he rise and speak in a voice that was still giddy with amusement.  
  
“Oh, we’re totally doing that,” Leo said, to Celia’s utter dismay. “I’ll take her down there tomorrow.”  
  
Shannon permitted herself a smile. She had pulled it off.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
 **EPILOGUE**  
  
“Welcome to the Self-Reliance Abatement Law Pilot Program,” said the pleasant receptionist at the Office of Female Compliance headquarters. The intake area was in a different part of the building than Shannon worked, one built for administrative duties with lots of petitioners, similar to the department of self-driving vehicles. Shannon was standing at the reception desk in her business jacket, skirt and blouse, and Leo was beside her in his usual tee shirt and sweats, his black bangs all but obscuring his eyes as he grinned and tried to avoid laughing. Shannon had convinced him to throw some flip-flops on to make the walk.   
  
Also with them was Celia… and she was wearing nothing but a bra, panties, and a pair of puffy novelty dog ears. Her face was blushing with a strained smile, but every muscle in her face was twitching, as if a roaring, angry expression was boiling underneath. Her amazing body was really filling out her underwear, too - thin in the torso, thick in the tits and as, graceful of limb. That was Celia.  
  
“I’d like to register my sister as an official fucking retard,” Leo spoke up, and then giggled into his hand while the receptionist raised her eyebrow. “Or whatever.” Shannon saw Celia’s fists clench and unclench.  
  
“You vow that to the best of your knowledge your sister lacks the intelligence to make decisions about anything?” the receptionist asked.   
  
“Oh yeah,” Leo said, and he seemed to be getting an unbelievable kick out of the whole thing while Celia glowered. “She’s absolutely useless except as a hole for me to shove my cock into. Like, I’ve seen some serious fucking retards in my day but like, Celia has got to be the dumbest. I’m pretty sure she actually has like… cum for brains. Like I came too much in her mouth and it got absorbed into her brain or something, and not she’s as dumb as a dog. Dumber even.”  
  
He barely got through the testimonial without laughing again, though the receptionist seemed to think nothing of it, and only smiled at Leo. “Do you accept that as a special designate of this pilot program under the auspices of the OFC, you will be responsible for the actions of your sister, including all penalties and fees incurred, court judgments, crimes and misdemeanors? That all her actions will be seen as the result of your instruction.”  
  
“Whatever,” Leo said, growing bored. Shannon was glad to see this - it meant Leo wouldn’t give a second thought to any possible consequences. Kicking a man in the balls was a capital offense for a woman, for a man it probably wasn’t a crime at all - just something that happened during a fight. Unknowingly, Leo had all but guaranteed that Celia would go scot free.  
  
He chippered up as he focused on what was important to him. “But we get a like, a nametag that designates her as an official fucking dumbass, right?”   
  
The receptionist nodded, and then beckoned Celia forward. “We need a declaration from her in order to make this final,” she said, then addressed Celia. “Do you accept that you’re completely stupid and useless and that a man should make all your decisions?”  
  
Celia’s face reddened. Her teeth clenched. Her knuckles popped. Shannon grew nervous - for a moment it seemed like she might lose it and punch her brother right in the face. Shannon gave her a look of warning - please for your own sake - and then, Celia just slumped and her face took on that glassy, doll-like look of empty happiness. She was willing to do it to save her own skin.  
  
“I’m really, really stupid,” she admitted. “Most I just like to suck mens dicks and eat their cum. I’d probably eat nothing but cum if I could. I’m really dumb, like a dog.” She screwed up her face, and then barked. “Woof! Woof! I just want to live as my brother’s personal toilet and eat all his stinky, delicious cock cheese!”  
  
Watching Celia forced to go on such a diatribe for the system had given Leo a hardon, and he forced her to the floor, yanked her panties down and started to fuck her pussy right then and there, a sort of consummation to the new relationship. The receptionist was unphased by this, hanging a new ID card to Shannon over the sound of Celia’s grunts and groans. It featured Celia’s government-filed photo and personal information, with a special stamp reading:  
  
 **CELIA SELL. CERTIFIED DUMB BITCH.**  
  
Shannon breathed a sigh of relief, and when Leo beckoned her to kneel down and suck on his balls while he fucked Celia, she was in such a good mood that she almost enjoyed it.


	3. Celia And Leo

**7:00 AM**  
  
Celia Sell awoke to the smell of sweat in her nose. She was sleeping in her brother Leo’s bed, as she often requested that she do, except not in a comfortable position. Rather, Leo ordered her to sleep with her nose stuffed up against his large, heavy balls and, being a woman in a totalitarian state where a man’s rule was law regardless of inanity, she was bound to obey.  
  
But that didn’t mean she was happy about it.  
  
“Nnngh,” she grunted, brushing Leo’s scrotal skin out of her nostrils. She had snorted herself awake and found her nose plugged with his greasy nutsack, which it was his pleasure not to wash out of simple amusement at her reaction to the stink. Leo was a very simple-minded fellow. He used the three sisters in his family - Shannon, Celia and Kylie - as a method to make himself feel powerful and good. Raised in the system, it was the only thing he’d ever been taught, and he had a particular talent for humiliating Celia, the most headstrong of the sisters, in particular.  
  
This morning he wasn’t in the mood to let her go. Her stirring had awakened him as well, and he grunted with frustration and rolled over onto her face, smothering her with his big balls and flopping, heavy cockshaft. It was a very degrading position - Leo on his stomach, head close to the headboard, and Celia with her face mid-mattress, being smeared with cock. She tried her best to limit the amount of snuffling and choking noises she made and was only partially successful.  
  
Her brother proceeded to rub his sweaty, unwashed dick all over her. The process took about five minutes, and Celia fumed beneath him, knowing that beneath the coverlet, at least, her facial expression was free from the prying eyes of the cameras, which were installed everywhere to insure female compliance. Leo started by posting on his elbows and knees and cock-swabbing her face, rubbing his shaft and nuts all over her cheeks, lips, nose, and forehead. Then he shifted downward and plowed his half-hard dick between her large, round breasts. Celia was thin but she had an incredible rack; which in a world where male attention was liable to lead to all manner of inconvenience, was more a curse than a blessing. Leo, of course, had her sleep topless and wearing nothing but a pair of thong panties - if she was lucky.  
  
Sometimes he slept with all three sisters. Sometimes, Celia had a rare night off or, degradingly, was made to sleep in a cardboard box on the floor. (Leo had gone to a government office to have her declared as, essentially, a pet who wasn’t responsible for her own actions.) This morning, though, it was only her in the bed, and she felt him thrusting clumsily into her round, heavy breasts as if he was trying to fuck them. His cocktip poked into her nipples. His balls smeared into her cleavage. She could feel the sweat and grease of his unwashed nuts coating her body and marking her with his stink.  
  
“Nnngh… you dumb toilet,” Leo grunted into his pillow, his voice half-asleep. “I’ll fuck your huge tits are just like a pussy.” His cock was hardening into a serious case of morning wood, and Celia knew what had to be done, much as she loathed it. The key was to do it quickly. She pressed her tits together around his cock and balls and started tit-fucking him, using pressing, milking strokes as he loomed over her thin, busty frame. The sound of his greasy cock smooshing into her cleavage was audible in the bedroom - _smooosh, slllrch, slllrk_. The meaty sound of flesh on flesh. It only took half a minute before Leo’s extremely large cock was fully hard.   
  
It was long enough that the shaft could travel all the way between her boobs, emerge from the top of her cleavage, and still poke out in front of her mouth. Celia pushed her breasts together to milk him, and he ground down on her so his prick helmet jammed right up against her nose, the pisshole pressing against one of her dainty nostrils. Leo chuckled to himself. “How’s my cock smell this morning, sis?” he teased. “Take a sniff!” His long foreskin wrapped around her nose like a shroud.  
  
Celia inhaled and her eyes rolled back as a waft of pure, unadulterated _dick stink_ shot straight through her olfactories and into her brain. She felt droplets of Leo’s precum leaking into her sinuses as she moaned out. “It’s… g-great!” she insisted, permitted to give no other answer. “I… I sure do love sniffing your smelly cock that you haven’t washed in a week!” The additional details were a teeth-gritting form of rebuke. She hoped that perhaps her mention of the length of time would convince Leo to bathe instead of playing video games and jerking off all day, but her brother showered only when he remembered to do so, and spend most days on the couch, online gaming with other guys his age.  
  
Leo angled his hips and pressed his cock up so it went into her mouth. Celia, cross-eyed beneath the covers, was forced to degradingly suck it and roll the long, filthy foreskin around on her tongue, feeling the thick layer of dick cheese inside as it mixed with her saliva. Leo plowed her breasts and mouth with all the grace and subtlety of a blundering animal, before biting his lip and grunting out “Enjoy your stinky cum load for this morning, dummy!” and gasping as his cocktip swelled up and his pisshole disgorged rope after rope of thick, chowdery semen into her mouth, puffing out Celia’s cheeks.   
  
Celia swallowed what she could, trying not to make noises that would indicate she was in any distress. The taste was terrible and it was tough on her jaw, being made to open wide and take the full girth of her brother’s huge prong. Her neck length blonde hair was a starburst beneath her upturned head as her face and breasts were defiled.  
  
Leo twitched, slowed, stopped. Rolled over. Celia was sure that he would make some remark asking her if she enjoyed being his retarded dick sleeve, but instead he only grunted lazily and went back to sleep, his seed spent for that morning.  
  
Despite the foul load of cum polluting her mouth and taking forever to chew and swallow because of the sheer lumpy thickness, Celia knew she had to get up. It was her day to clean the house and make breakfast.   
  
She swallowed. Swallowed again. And then rolled out from under the coverlet, her bare feet on the carpet, and walked to the bathroom on the ground floor.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
**7:15 AM**  
  
Her first task was to brush her teeth.  
  
She looked at herself in the mirror, her breasts huge and defying gravity, her face grave but not overtly angry (this minor hiding of emotions was all she could manage; she was not nearly as adept as her sisters). She saw that her face was smeared with cum, her breasts slathered with sweat from Leo’s balls, and all around her nostrils and lips were chunks of yellowish-grey cock cheese. She exhaled with some unreadable emotion and looked down to the sink basin.   
  
There were four toothbrushes. Shannon’s - a featureless grey. Kylie’s, a bubbly pink. Leo’s, which was green. (And, she could tell from the dryness of the bristles, used by her brother about as frequently as the shower.) And finally, her own blue toothbrush. This was tucked into a drinking glass beside a tube of toothpaste. However, something wasn’t quite right. There was a post-it note attached to the glass, and she could recognize the block letters of her brother’s writing on it.  
  
Reaching out with a weary hand and an expression of barely-concealed disgust, she picked up the note and brought it to her face.  
  
**HEY SIS!**  
  
**I MADE A BET WITH ONE OF MY FRIENDS ONLINE THAT YOU’RE SUCH A CUM-CHUGGING RETARD YOU’D PROBABLY BRUSH YOUR TEETH WITH MY CUM. SO, HERE YOU GO! PLENTY OF MY EXTRA BACKED-UP SEMEN TO KEEP THOSE TEETH NICE AND WHITE! LOL**  
  
**OH AND MAKE SURE YOU FILM YOURSELF DOING IT BECAUSE I HAVE TO SHOW IT TO MY FRIEND TO WIN THE MONEY LOLZ. MAKE SURE HE CAN SEE HOW MUCH YOU ENJOY IT!**  
  
**THANKS YOU DUMB BITCH!**  
  
**-L**  
  
Celia put the note down and reached out to grab the tube and her toothbrush. She wondered how Leo had even gotten his cum in there, but it wasn’t too much of a surprise. Leo was mostly lazy but could be incredibly resourceful when it came to doing perverted things to his three sisters. He put more effort into putting cum in their food, playing lewd practical jokes, and thinking up embarrassing tasks than he ever had holding down a job.  
  
She held her brush in one hand, tube in the other. Unscrewed the cap. The stench of cum immediately filled her nose, and she did her best not to wrinkle it and look displeased. Complaining about anything with regard to a male cock - the size, the smell, the shape, the cum, impotence, amount of pubic hair, cleanliness - was cause for censure and reeducation by the Office of Female Compliance. And Celia was already on thin ice.  
  
She took out her phone and placed it on the sink basin, propped against the wall, recording outward. As she hit record, she forced her face into a plastic, unrealistic jester’s grin.  
  
“Hello! I love brushing my teeth with my brother’s amazingly thick sperm!” she chirped and bared her teeth into a grin so fake it was almost terrifying. Her blue eyes beamed soullessly as she squeezed out a fat worm of yellowish-white cum from the tube and onto the bristles of her toothbrush. “It smells so great, and the taste is even better! I just want to brush my teeth with cum every day since I’m such a dumb whore who likes to drink a lot of semen from every guy I see!” There were tears welling in her eyes, but they weren’t despairing. Rather, they were tears of repressed rage. Still, her _womanface_ held on.  
  
She began to brush her teeth, recording herself, rubbing the thick sperm over every area of her mouth, smearing her mostly-white ivories with a coating of her brother’s sludge. She squeezed out more cum when she ran out, occasionally moaning to show how much she loved the taste. Of course, Celia privately thought that Leo’s backed-up nut sauce tasted terrible, but she wasn’t permitted to say so.  
  
“Mmm! I sure love it when my brother makes me brush my teeth with his loads! Why don’t you come over and you can slap my huge tits around too and jerk off in my mouth!” Celia smiled her iron grin. She knew from experience this statement was the sort of thing that Leo would want to hear. “Just be patient with me,” she finalized. “Since I’m so stupid and have the brain of a retarded muskrat!” Fake sweetness in the smile. She extended her tongue and took the cum tube in both hands, squeezing out a massive, splattery load of it onto her tongue and then chewing it while staring into the camera.  
  
“It’s so delicious! My brother is great and not a stupid asshole at all!” she gurgled, through the foul-tasting mess of cum chunks that she had to break up in order to swallow. Her obvious sarcasm was skirting the line, but it was the one respite she allowed herself in order to stay sane.  
  
She reached out and shut the recording off, and kept her face steady as she leaned in to rinse out her mouth.   
  
As she was doing so, her sister Kylie bubbled into the washroom in her pink, lacy lingerie, pigtails waving. Apparently, Kylie had an early shift at her massage parlor. “Ooh!” she chirped, in her high voice. “Is that cum toothpaste?” She eagerly squeezed onto her own toothbrush, not seeming to mind in the least.  
  
Celia only watched, staring straight ahead, and Kylie leaned in to examine herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth with cum. It took a minute, and once she was done, the bouncy younger sister simply left. Everything was so effortless to Kylie; and Celia often begrudged her that capacity to absorb attention from men, no matter how lewd, and go on like nothing happened. She had seen Kylie eating breakfast while getting fucked in the ass, she had seen Kylie get fucked in the ass by multiple males at a movie theater when Leo dragged the sisters there on a family outing. She had seen Kylie fucked while eating dinner, while eating, and while sleeping. Her face seldom changed; if anything, Kylie sometimes started to look a little bored.  
  
Celia had no such power. Her _womanface_ was perpetually on the verge of collapse, either from the discomfort of taking Leo’s big, long cock in her ass or down her throat, or out of sheer rage at her brother’s boorishness. This morning was no exception, and her lip twitched as she wiped the final remains of Leo’s cum from her face and moved to the kitchen.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
**11:00 AM**  
  
When Leo rolled out of bed, Celia had already eaten breakfast. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t expected to participate in Leo’s meal. In fact, Leo enjoyed the hand-and-foot service of the many maid cafes in the city, despite being too lazy (and busy with online gaming) to leave the house on most days. So, on this day, he ordered his sister Celia to be his personal service maid - complete with one of Kylie’s uniforms.  
  
A particularly humiliating one that made Celia’s left eyelid twitch with rage.  
  
It was a “Doggy Maid” outfit, and featured a leather bustier exposing her large breasts, a tight latex skirt that would no doubt cling to her buttocks like a second skin, a pair of thong panties, some thigh-high fishnets… and, most humiliating to Celia, a fluffy dog tail attached to the back waist of the skirt, plus pair of cute puppy ears. It looked to be about four sizes too small.  
  
She changed into it in front of him as he leered, waiting for his breakfast like a king, not bothering to wear pants, with his long, thick cock hanging down over the edge of the chair. Because of the extreme tightness of the fetish wear, her breasts overspilled the top of the bustier beautifully and her midsection was sucked in to a wasp-like taper. Celia clenched her teeth and trembled as she squeezed into it, and discomfort only seemed to encourage her brother, who told her to get to work making breakfast.  
  
As she puttered around the kitchen, preparing his eggs, toast, home fries, and bacon, Leo chuckled and made remarks about her being a ‘good dog’. Occasionally he would rise from his chair to grope her breasts mightily as she cooked, or force her to bend over so he could slap his cock on her ass and grope her buttocks. When he wasn’t groping, he was lazily jerking himself off as he watched her tits jiggle around and her tail wag busily back and forth as she turned to move pots and pans.  
  
“Sure is nice to have a pet around the house,” Leo commented, taking his ease, knowing that his breakfast was nearly ready. “Even if you can’t cook worth a damn. But I guess I shouldn’t expect a dog to know how to cook, huh?”  
  
Celia barely avoided grumbling to herself as she slaved over the stove. “Yes,” she agreed, with difficulty. “You’re… clearly right, my handsome genius of a brother.”  
  
“Don’t you mean, ‘woof!’?” Leo chuckled, putting his hands behind his head. “You’re a pet after all. Isn’t that why we took you down to the government office and had it officially declared that your brain is super-dumb?” He shook his head. “Come on, you can do better than that!”  
  
Celia again, barely contained a grimace, staring straight ahead at the stove clock with unblinking eyes. “Y-yes! I mean… woof!” She began to bark like a dog, and Leo was quickly chuckling with laughter.  
  
“That’s more like it!” he said. “Now come over here and get your dog bone! On all fours, like a real dog!” There was only one thing he could be referring to, Celia knew - his jutting, nasty, extremely large cock. She took the food off the stove and then crawled over, barking, dog ear hair barrette on her head, tail attachment wagging stiffly from the back of her too-short, too-tight skirt. Her breasts hung and wobbled as she moved.  
  
“That’s a good doggie!” Leo said, and as she crawled below the table, Celia saw with horror that he had an open tin of moist dog food clutched in one hand. “I’ve been using up a lot of money feeding you girls, so we’re gonna try something new today, okay Spot? Rex? Or I, I guess, we should give you a woman’s name. Like _dummy_.” He chuckled to himself again. “That’s okay, right?”  
  
Celia found herself responding to this by actually making the sound of a grumpy dog. It was humiliating, but she couldn’t help it. Disobeying Leo and punching his lights out would lead to all sorts of trouble, not the least of which would be execution or a stay in a government brainwashing facility. She had no choice but to go along with his ‘plan’, regardless of how stupid she believed it was.  
  
“This can of dog food was only sixty-nine cents!” Leo went on. “So while I eat the breakfast you made, you can eat breakfast too! Sound good, Dummy?” He looked upward, as if thinking. “You know, I really should get you a collar with that name…”  
  
Celia whined grumpily. It was a sad irony that in giving up all humanity and accepting a role as a dumb animal she had more freedom of expression than she’d ever had as a woman. But the whining only seemed to make Leo chuckle. He enjoyed teasing his sister, and it was all just a game to him. She was there to service his needs - end of story - and he knew no other way to live.  
  
He stroked his cock to hardness and jammed the heavy bell-end into the moist dog food with a goosh, rubbing it around until it was totally covered in a mealy, clingy mess of the stuff. Then, he pushed back from the table so he could observe, and offered his cock to Celia like he was offering a treat. “Here girl! That’s a good girl! You want a treat?” he said, excitedly. “Come get a treat! Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good one?”  
  
Celia, burning with the hatred of a thousand suns, took a moment to steel herself against the urge to commit murder. Slowly, her face turned from stone to a twisted smile beneath her dog ears. She woofed. She yipped. She even twisted her hips to wag her tail, and then she leaned in, taking Leo’s huge, dog-food-caked cocktip into her mouth and sucking it hungrily. It tasted vile and bitter; not designed for human taste buds, clearly, and Celia had to work hard not to offend her brother by upchucking her breakfast all over his cock.  
  
“Ahhh!” Leo moaned, enjoying the sensation. “You really like sucking dog food off of my cock, don’t you, doggie? Old Yeller. Old Stupid. Whatever your name is!” He chuckled. “I’m gonna have to tell all the guys about this!”  
  
Celia, dick in mouth, stared up with eyes that were glistening with tears, and nodded enthusiastically. She waggled her tight, athletic hips again and made her boobs shake. Leo reached down to grip her hair and then clubbed her about the face and cheeks with his food-flecked cock flange for a while, just to see her reaction. “You like that, don’t you, doggie?”  
  
Celia woofed, yipped and nodded. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she started to pant like a dog. Instinctively, she knew this was what her brother wanted to see. Leo was certainly enjoying it - his favorite thing was to devise new ways for his sisters to amuse him. His next step was to force his big, fat nuts into a dog-food tin until they were totally coated in gravy, and jam them up against Celia’s mouth and nose. “I didn’t expect you’d like sucking dog food off of my balls but I guess you do, huh?” Leo prompted, and Celia started to lick and slurp at his sack as he mashed it against her face. “Wag your tail if you like it, doggo!”  
  
Celia did. She wagged. She whined. She yipped. She licked like a dog and then proceeded to suck each fat testicle clean of the bitter gravy and meat slurry that they were covered in. Meanwhile, Leo went about the business of eating his breakfast - his _human_ breakfast - that she had prepared while wearing a humiliating dog maid outfit.  
  
“Ah, that feels good!” Leo said, then turned his head to the side and burped. She’d been concentrating on the first few inches of his girthy cock since that was all her mouth could handle, but he pushed back from the table and grabbed her by the hair, tugging Celia in and making her deep-throat as much as her windpipe could take. She immediately whined and whimpered as he took two fistfuls of her hair and began to slam her face down on his dick, all the way to the balls. It gave her no pleasure - it never did - but she had at least learned to tolerate the discomfort of having such a huge penis stabbing past her tonsils, seemingly all the way to her stomach.  
  
“Wag your tail!” Leo ordered, then rolled his eyes. “Come on, sis, you’re doing such a half-assed job of this!” Even as he scolded her he rammed his prong deep into her gullet, making her eyes water and roll back and drool pour down her chin. Her tits jiggled and bounced. And yes, she did wiggle her hips and make that fluffy, feather-duster tail wag back and forth. “You get a special treat today, doggie! An extra-special mix of dog food and cum, straight from master’s milk bone!” Leo laughed at his double-entendre, obviously approaching a climax, and when he pulled Celia’s face down on his prong for a final time, her cheeks puffing out like a bullfrog as he blasted hot, chunky nut sauce deep into her throat, Celia could only let out a groan that, luckily for her, was indistinguishable from climax.  
  
What was really on her mind was a desire to kick Leo right in the balls. But instead she felt sperm explode from her dainty nostrils as his backed-up nut sauce blew into her throat and mixed with all the dog-food she’d been made to slurp off of his foot-long fuckmeat. She could _hear_ the heavy cum worms spurting out of his dick and forming a reservoir of jizz in her slender body.  
  
Only after holding her in place for nearly a minute, making her nose bend sideways against his pubis, unloading shot after shot into her guts, did he relent and let her go. Celia, blue in the face, sank down to a thighs-on-calves position, coughing onto the floor in a stream of yellowish cum chunks and mealy dog food. Obviously, Leo shook his head with disapproval, crossing his arms. “Geez, bad dog,” he lamented. He had absolutely no self-awareness about what he was doing - to him, it didn’t even seem like a fetish. Just a way to pass time in the afternoon. “You couldn’t even swallow all of my special milk!” He made a tsk noise with his tongue, then shrugged and leaned back in his chair, satisfied both in terms of breakfast and climax.  
  
“Oh well,” he said. “You’ll do better next time, Lassie. Dumbass. Dumb-assie.” He chuckled. “That was fun, huh?”  
  
Celia whimpered and even ventured a growl, and Leo laughed again. “Come on, you can speak again, sis,” he relented. “You like that a lot, I bet!”  
  
Celia rose to her feet, knees quivering. She was still lightheaded from having Leo’s fat cock rammed down her throat for nearly a minute, and her nose was sore from banging into his pubic area. Her chin, neck, and cleavage was a mess of drool and cum, and her breasts were not only slathered with these substances but also with loose dog food. She stood before him, shoulders slumped, hands at her sides.  
  
Her face held fast and then twisted up into a brainless smile. “Y-yes… of course. I love sucking dog food off of your huge cock and getting my throat fucked until I’m passing out. Thank you for letting me be a good dog for you, my amazing brother!” She clenched her teeth and tears welled in her eyes again. “You’re… a great guy!”  
  
Leo nodded and then she saw his interest in her slide from his face. He had gaming to do, after all, and after busting a nut, he wouldn’t need her for a while. That meant she had a respite to enjoy, however short.  
  
She would use part of it to get cleaned up.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
**4:00 PM**  
  
Later that afternoon Leo decided he wanted to walk down the street for a slice of pizza, but as he rose from his couch and turned out his pockets, there was no money to be found. Likewise, the balance on his government-issued credits was low. Leo, like most males, was heavily subsidized by the government just for existing, and he took a portion of Shannon, Kylie, and Celia’s wages as the male head of the household. But this week, his reckless spending had emptied his coffers entirely before the next deposit came in.  
  
“Come on,” he said to Celia, rousing her from her place at the foot of the couch, where he’d ordered her to languish in nothing but underwear, occasionally sucking his dick and balls while he played video games. “We gotta raise some pizza money.” Before he even reached for the erasable whiteboard he kept wedged between the edge of the couch and the wall, Celia knew exactly what his plan was. There was a squeak as Leo took the board, uncapped the well-used marker, and wrote “Available To Grope And Fuck, 10 CREDS” before handing it to Celia and telling her to put her shoes on.  
  
Celia’s face twisted into the usual smile that she did not feel. “Oh… good,” she said. “Of course.”  
  
Two minutes later they were out the door, Leo in his sweatpants, tee shirt, and ratty sneakers, Celia wearing nothing but heels and panties, holding the sign humiliatingly over her midriff with her large breasts hanging over the top of it. She was absolutely mortified and prayed the route to the pizza parlor wouldn’t be full of pedestrians, but it was a warm day and plenty of people were out on the street. Most were women, but there were a few men as well, and Leo wasn’t shy about stopping them, like a beggar asking people for change.  
  
“Hey buddy, I need to get a slice of pizza,” he told one young man about his own age. “Can you spot me ten? My sister will make it worth your while.”  
  
The young man, blonde and better-looking than Leo (though no doubt less well-hung) blinked. For a moment, Celia had a hope that he had somewhere to be and would leave her alone… but her luck wasn’t nearly that good. Her breasts had always attracted attention because of their size, and now they were on display for anyone to see… and touch! The blonde guy wasn’t going to miss the chance, and gave Leo the broiest of high-fives. “Dude, that’s a good deal,” he said. “Your sister is totally stacked!”  
  
They exchanged ten credits with their payment apps and the man reached out to start fondling Celia’s breasts, digging his probing digits into her boobs and making her grit her teeth as her sensitive nipples were pinched and twisted. “Man, what a pair of milkers!” the blonde guy said, still addressing Leo and treating Celia as nothing more than an object. “You ever shove your dick between ‘em?”  
  
“All the time!” Leo replied, and they shared a laugh. “Honestly, sometimes I wish I could just keep my sister’s boobs around and throw the rest of her in the trash, she’s so bothersome.” They laughed again.  
  
“Yeah,” the blonde guy agreed, smooshing Celia’s boobs together. “Hey, you don’t mind if I jerk off on her tits, do you?”  
  
“Go ahead,” Leo said. “It’s a free country!”  
  
Of course, it was only a free country for men, but Celia didn’t speak up about that sordid truth or about anything else as the blonde man produced his fairly large penis and started lip-biting and grunting as he forced her down to her knees. “Ah, sure am glad I ran into a whore like this,” he grunted. “I’ve been looking for some huge tits to help me bust a nut!” Leo kicked out a leg at Celia, bumping her lightly to remind her to look more enthusiastic as she held up her large, heavy breasts for the man’s pleasure. Then came the hissing, the grunting, and shot after shot of semen piling onto her breasts, which she held up like a platter, her face smiling mindlessly upward as she was used as a cum-rag.  
  
“Pretty good, huh?” Leo said, slapping the other male on the shoulder. “She’s pretty stupid and useless most of the time around the house, but her throat feels good and so does her ass!” He idled against the building wall as the man zipped up his pants and Celia stood up, her breasts blasted with sperm, still holding the sign.  
  
“Thanks for the cumdump, bro!” the blonde man said, and he gave Leo another fist bump before continuing on down the sidewalk. A city bus trundled by with a large ad banner on the side, showing an addled woman making a stupid orgasm face. _IS SHE USING HER BRAIN TOO MUCH?_ it asked. _INFORM YOUR COMPLIANCE OFFICER!_  
  
They continued down the sidewalk with Celia following obediently behind her brother, doing her best to keep her face even and her smile constant. Leo had the pizza money on his account, but they were stopped three further times nonetheless by men interested in using Celia for relief - the final tally was one face-fuck, one further tit-groping, and one man who decided to pay double for both, before plowing Celia’s throat for nearly ten minutes in the middle of the sidewalk, making her drool all over herself and nearly pass out from a lack of air, her makeup running, her knees shuddering, while Leo used his cellphone to play online games.   
  
People made comments as they passed by; with the female-to-male ratio being what it was, most were women, but there were a good number of men too. “Hey, can’t you keep your dumb dicksucker out of the middle of the sidewalk?” one middle-aged man complained to Leo. “I’m trying to walk here!”  
  
Leo just shrugged. “What can I do?” he explained. “She’s a fucking retard with cum for brains! She just drops and starts sucking dicks pretty much any time. You know how women are.”  
  
The man’s expression softened and he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. This one seems to be a real throat-whore.” Leo and the older man proceeded to bond for several minutes over what a ‘dumb bitch’ Celia was and how much cum she liked to swallow, with Leo telling tales (bragging, really) about how if she had her way she would probably eat cum for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “It all goes straight to her tits,” he concluded, pointing to his head like a genius, and they shared a chuckle.  
  
Meanwhile, Celia was having her throat absolutely throttled. Heavy balls were banging off her chin with each stroke and her neck was straining as nearly a foot of brutal meat as pounding away. Her eyes had become dark, raccoon-like smears of mascara and spit was bubbling out of her nose and frothing down to slather between her large, round breasts. The man took two fistfuls of her hair and screwed her mouth as hard as he could, clearly seeing the act as a way to take out some sexual frustration before dinner. He rooted his cock in her guts and Celia made noises in kind, undignified gagging and glottal sounds - _gluuuuuuuark, huarrrrkk, glnnnnnnnnngh_ \- as she gurgled around his pipe.  
  
“Hurry it up, will you buddy?” Leo said, looking down the block to the pizza parlor’s entrance. “I’m hungry.”  
  
“Man!” grunted the facefucker. “Your sister’s throat can take a lot of dick!” He gritted his teeth and slammed Celia’s face one last time against his pubis, smooshing her nose flat and making her eyes roll back to the whites from a lack of oxygen. More bubbles of cum burbled out of the seal her mouth made around his shaft. “Take my load!” Then the sounds began to come from within her. Spraying, splattering sounds of cum erupting deep into her belly, as her eyes roiled in their sockets and her bare knees seemed to weaken.  
  
When he was finished, the well-hung customer let Celia’s face slide off of his softening dick, and she collapsed onto the sidewalk, blocking half of it just as a third man approached. “Geez, get out of the way, you stupid, big-titted bitch!” he muttered, stepping over her on his way to a meeting, suit-clad, briefcase in hand.  
  
Celia, dazed, slowly rose to her feet with her sign. Before proceeding with Leo, she made sure that her smile was in place. The smiling requirement was hardest at a time like this, with a harlequin mask face of smeared eyeshadow and lipstick, bubbles of sperm around her mouth, and tears of black mascara running down from her bloodshot eyes. But it had to be done. She twisted her grin into an exaggerated crescent and followed along as Leo began walking again.  
  
“I bet you really liked that, huh?” Leo said, as they moved through the passers by. Most of them were women who gave Celia a knowing glance, as if to say _I know what that’s like_. A couple of the women were bare-chested already, or had their clothing mussed or cum on the faces, having suffered similar indignities to Celia already that day.  
  
“Yes, of course! I love getting my throat fucked in public while everyone who passes talks about what a stupid whore I am!” Celia said, chipperly. Her voice quavered, her throat still feeling rough after the hard irrumatio. “This was such a good idea, Leo!” Her knuckles whitened around the sign and for a moment she felt an urge to roll it up into a tube and batter Leo on the head with it, but she knew that would only lead to her arrest and reeducation. They made their way to the restaurant - predictably called Easy Gal Pizza - and just as they were about to step inside, Celia found herself standing face-to-face with her sister Shannon.   
  
Their eyes both widened with surprise.  
  
“Celia!” Shannon gasped, looking her blonde sister up and down. Shannon was a brunette and not good at most sexual, but she made up for it by dutifully trying hard. “And Leo! What are you two doing here?”  
  
“We’re here for pizza, stupid,” Leo said. “What do you think?” Shannon’s eyes went sideways to take in her sister’s utter humiliation - the cum-blasted face and bare tits hanging enormous, wearing nothing but panties and heels in public, her knees dirty from the sidewalk and kneeling down to suck cock, mascara smeared, holding a sign proclaiming that she was available for any man who wanted to grope some tits or fuck a tight throat.  
  
“Oh,” Shannon said, blushing. She and Celia shared a knowing glance. “I guess we’ll just pick up-”  
  
“Nah, let’s eat at this place,” Leo asserted and walked inside, beckoning Celia and Shannon to follow. Shannon was in the business suit she often wore to her job as an office administrator at the OFC - Office of Female Compliance - and this was a stark contrast to Celia, who was naked except for panties, heels, and her sign.   
  
Like most restaurants in the pro-male regime, the place was utilitarian. Even the art of pizza on the walls seemed to be lacking color and originality. There were metal tables that looked like picnic benches spaces ten feet apart, and several women were already eating, taking immediate notice as Leo walked in. Behind the counter, a woman wearing a white visor and apron was taking orders. There were no other males in the place, or so it seemed. Leo walked up to the counter, boorishly nudging past the women in line (who, of course, couldn’t complain) and looked right at the counter-girl, who gave him her strict attention. She was young, attractive, a brunette with blue eyes and a long ponytail.  
  
“Gimme a slice, double pepperoni,” Leo instructed. “And a Compliance-brand carbonated coca water. Plus a couple slices of whatever for my dumb sisters.” Then, he added, almost as an afterthought: “And I’d like to jerk off on your face, too.”  
  
“Please press your payment app screen against the scanner,” the ponytailed brunette said, smiling so wide it seemed her mouth would crack. “And thank you for choosing to dump a load on my face!”  
  
She came around the counter as Leo pressed his phone against the scanning strip on the counter and the money that Celia had earned being groped and sucking cock was transferred for the pizza slices. She knelt in front of him as Celia and Shannon, as well as every other woman in the place stared straight ahead. It wasn’t an unusual thing to see, of course, and men were entitled to jerk off on the faces of any woman they wanted, not to mention fucking them if they were in the mood.  
  
Shannon and Celia waited for their pizza as Leo milked his long cock lazily and with a sigh of release, eventually spilling out some fat, lumpy, yellowish cum ropes all over the face of the cashier, leaving the gooey nut strands stretched from her eyelashes to her nose, and plastered to the tip of her visor. “Milk out the rest,” Leo ordered, and she did so, reaching out to give him a sensual, milking tugjob. The other women working in the back produced a fresh pizza pie in this time for Leo - obviously, his order had to be fresh. Celia and Shannon were given older slices that had been sitting under the heat lamps… and that wasn’t all.   
  
Both of their slices seemed to be totally covered in semen.  
  
Shannon held up her slice and examined the thick globs of cum was the counterwoman who had replaced the ponytailed brunette only shrugged at her. “Our manager likes to offer female customers some special toppings,” she said. “We can switch it… if your brother files a complaint.” But of course, Shannon and Celia knew that Leo would not lodge a complaint. In fact, he would probably find it hilarious.  
  
“Oh… good!” Shannon said, with difficulty, plastering a wide smile to her face. “I’m so glad I eat this pizza covered with your manager’s thick, smelly and yellow cum!” Her smile seemed to creak, it was stretched so wide.  
  
Celia was having an even harder time, standing there already cum-covered, degraded, makeup running, and now subjected to this further indignity. Her eyes seemed to jitter in their sockets as she twisted her mouth into a rictus that only barely resembled a smile. Under the circumstances, it was the best she could do. “Yes… that’s… great!” she managed, her voice hoarse, as if every word was a struggle. Her eyes fixated on the huge amount of cum on the slice she’d been given. It was piled on lumpy, nasty wads. “I… nnngh…”  
  
Shannon elbowed her slightly in the ribs and gave her a disapproving look before smiling sweetly for any cameras that might be zeroing in on their reactions. “What my sister means is that it’s a great honor to eat such a huge backed-up cum load!” she said. “We love it when guys jerk off in our mouths or on our food!”  
  
“Y-yes…” Celia seethed, teeth clenched. “We… love it.” Her hands were balling into fists and her knuckles crackling as he watched Leo cockslap the counterwoman and smear cum all over her face with his balls. Only after suitably marking her with his jizz did he scoop his large, foldable slice of pizza from the counter, tuck it into his mouth, and start to walk toward a table, with Shannon and Celia in tow. Even though was wearing crumb-stained black sweatpants and a black tee shirt, and looked like the world’s biggest slacker, in that room, at that moment, Leo was the lord of all creation - a position that he took completely for granted, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Which, in his particular corner of the earth, it was!  
  
He sat down at his bench and Celia and Shannon started to do the same, but Leo stopped them. “Take out your boobs and bend over the table,” he instructed. “I want to see some tits while I eat. And get your faces in those pizza slices. Eat them with no hands.” His instructions given, he began to chow down as Celia and Shannon were left with the humiliating task of complying with his orders. Celia’s breasts were already out, so she leaned over the table and pressed her large tits flat against the surface, a pose that made her panty-clad rear jut out of everyone to see. The other women were doing their best to ignore the spectacle, but of course, with Leo having chosen the table in the exact center of the room, it was hard to ignore.  
  
Shannon dutifully unbuttoned her blouse and jacket, letting her breasts fall free. They were shapely but not as large as Celia’s, a shortcoming for which Leo gave her no end of his usual brand of joking grief. She hiked up her skirt over her hips too, exposing her panties, and leaned over next to Leo. Now both she and her blonde sister were putting their boobs and butts on display for their brother’s dinner time enjoyment. All that was left was to press their mouths against the cum-blasted pizza slices and chow down.  
  
“You two sure love eating cum, don’t you?” Leo said, his mouth full of pizza. “Man, this is good. But I probably won’t enjoy it as much as you will. That manager must have been saving up extra.” He chuckled at the idea. “I should apply for a job at this place!”  
  
“That would be… a good idea!” Shannon said, supporting her brother’s every whim dutifully as a woman was required by law to do to every man, no matter how dumb and lewd his ideas were. “That way all these women would get to eat as much of your semen as they wanted!” Leo nodded, reached out, and smooshed Shannon’s face into her pizza, almost dismissively - an act that she immediately moaned with thanks for, regardless of here true feelings as smelly, yellow cum filled her nostrils and smeared her lips, forcing her to start eating or drown.  
  
Celia was still looking down at her cum-loaded pizza slice when Leo munched the final bites of his, tugged the waistband of his sweatpants down, and wiped his pizza-greased fingers on her tits before pulling out his half-hard cock. “I feel like fucking you in the ass,” he explained, and his hand pressed Celia’s head down as she was bent over the table, smearing her face into her pizza just as she had done with Shannon. “So enjoy your dinner while you take my dick, alright? C’mon, get those panties down.”  
  
Celia shuddered with humiliation as she did as she was told, having no other alternative. She saw the wandering eyes of every other woman in the place as she was bent over in public, wearing a sign proclaiming her a public fucktoy, her tits bare and bouncing, her ass jutting, her face cum-smeared, being forced to eat old, jerk-off-on food from the lecherous manager of the joint. Meanwhile, her lewd and crude brother was being treated like a king. Never before had the divide between man and woman in society been so stark. She felt Leo’s cocktip press against her asshole with, mercifully, the lube from his copious precum easing the passage a bit. Even so, she knew it would cause nothing but discomfort at first - followed by something even more humiliating. Pleasure.  
  
Much as Celia hated being abused by Leo, she could never stop herself from cumming when his huge cock was buried all the way in her ass. Much as she reviled his behavior and the things he made her do, her body responded to him, unbidden, and this time was no different. His fat, greasy prong tore into her ass and she groaned out with an eye rolling, fist-clenching, pizza-smothered yelp. It was not considered a loss of _womanface_ to react orgasmically to a man’s cock - in fact, women were encouraged to make vocal and public displays of affection to anything dick-related, including the act of sex itself.  
  
“Heh, you like that, don’t you?” Leo said, smiling as he put his hands on her athletic hips and gripped, burying a foot of meat in her bowels and banging forward with stroke after stroke that made her buttocks clap against his thighs, muffled by his sweats. _Whup! Whup! Whup!_ In spite of herself she started eating the cum-covered pizza as well, and she saw the eyes of every woman on her as she wolfed it down, as well as the eyes of her own sister, cheek against the table, looking sideways, munching her own cum-loaded meal.  
  
“Y-yes, I like it!” Celia groaned. “I… love getting fucked up the ass in public by your huge cock!” Leo took long, heavy strokes that seemed to carve into her, and each one drew a moan and a gasp from Celia. With lumps of fresh sperm and tomato sauce added to the mix, her face was an even more degrading mess than before. Her buttocks jiggled with each impact of Leo’s thrusting, and her tits wobbled on the table, piling up lewdly in shapes like interrupted teardrops. “I love eating cum!” It wasn’t really true, but it wasn’t totally false. But as she hated it, Leo was taking her close to climax with the merciless pounding of his deep, probing cock.  
  
Cumming in public was always the worst… and the best. For a moment, during orgasm, she was permitted to drop her act and truly express herself - the only time she got to do so during any given day. The downside was, it was utterly, completely humiliating. Much as she wanted to wring Leo’s neck for being such a dumb jerk, he was making her body quake, making her cum deep in her ass. The pain and discomfort and degradation was all coalescing into one big, public explosion. She threw her head back and howled loud, causing several women to look over from their tables and whisper to each other. Celia knew they were talking about her, were seeing every detail of her being her brother’s personal ass-whore, but the resulting anger and frustration found no purchase on a mind that was riding an orgasm. She made a long, moaning noise and shuddered to an obvious climax. She heard Leo grunt and felt the hot warmth of his cum pumping _deep_ into her ass.  
  
“Ahhh,” Leo sighed, busting his second nut of the last ten minutes, before withdrawing and banging his cock on her ass a couple of times to seal a job well done. Shannon knew what was expected of her; before he could even give the order, she’d moved to suck Celia’s ass-juices off of Leo’s cock, cleaning it suitably for reinsertion into his sweatpants. And as the euphoria of the orgasm began to wear off, Celia felt seething anger seep back in. Her fists and her teeth clenched in equal measure. She had had enough of Leo. She was going to tear him a new asshole. She was going to-  
  
She was intercepted as she rose from the table by Shannon, who absorbed her blow and spun around with her, as if the two were doing a dance routine. There were a few gasps in the room. Perhaps some of them had seen Celia’s intent - a knockout blow - but Shannon hoped she had hid it well enough from the security cameras. Leo, who had been turned around and about to head back out the front door of the shop, looked back with quizzical impatience. “What the hell are you two retards doing?” he asked, and Shannon, holding Celia’s wrist from just having collected the punch that would have turned Leo’s lights out, simply hugged her sister, twisting her face up into a smile.  
  
“We’re just so grateful that your cock is so big and you’re such a smart and amazing person!” Shannon said. “Please face-fuck us and cum on your faces and feed us your cum whenever you want! And fuck us up the ass any time, too!” Again, she jabbed an elbow into Celia’s midsection.  
  
Celia’s face twisted into the most artificial, puppet smile yet, so wide and fake, showing so many teeth, it was scarily unnatural. “Oh… yes…” she said, eyes unblinking. “You’re… great, Leo!” she managed, sounding like her head was going to explore. “Thank you for… pumping all of your thick cum… up my ass! And making me eat the manager’s sperm… in front of all the other customers!”  
  
Leo blinked, raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged and smiled. “Hey, no problem!” he said, and then turned and walked out the front door. “You two are just stupid cumdumps, after all!”  
  
“Yes,” Shannon said, sweetly. “Please sleep with your balls on my face tonight, okay?” She gave Leo the thumbs up, and, mercifully, he simply turned and walked out of the shop, having busted enough nuts to lose interest, looking forward to online gaming with his friends.  
  
Celia and Shannon walked home together, knowing that this was their life, knowing that events like these would happen the next day, and the next, and the next, until men no longer found them useful.   
  
It was the way of the world in the year 2069.

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by Hopviq.


End file.
